


Turn up the voltage

by Graysongirl



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Bottom Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Electrocution, Established Relationship, Everyone Has Issues, Execution, Gaslighting, M/M, Origin Story, Pre-Canon, Sensation Play, Timeline What Timeline, Top Valentino (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), Vox is a Brat (Hazbin Hotel), Whump, nobody is a good guy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 29,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28655886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysongirl/pseuds/Graysongirl
Summary: Vox reminisces about how his train wreck of a relationship with Valentino started, going all the way back to when he committed a crime of passion that signed not only his death warrant but also bought him a one way ticket to Hell. The newly dead TV demon arrives in the Envy district and soon decides that this simply will not do, venturing out further into the Hellish city until he meets the man that will soon help him rise to the rank of overlord, but at the same time will completely break his heart.An origin story for Vox that ties in with many of my other works.
Relationships: Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 107
Kudos: 133





	1. Any last words?

**Author's Note:**

> A few people seemed to like the idea of a Vox origin story about my bratty interpretation of the TV demon so here we go! I had a lot of ideas for this so I hope people enjoy my take on how Vox ended up the way he is. No one in this story is meant to be felt sorry for! Vox and Val will always be terrible people, which makes heaping the angst on them so much fun. At the same time though I do hope I can tug at your heart strings just a tiny bit with these two idiots in love. 
> 
> Content warning for discussion of the death penalty towards the end of this chapter, no description of the actual death occurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Buckle up kiddies!

Another fight. Another slammed door.

He should be used to this game by now. They’d been playing it for close to 80 years already and every single time they got back together he knew it was just a ticking time bomb until they were right back at where they were now. 

So why did it still hurt so God damn much?

Vox clenched his fists up tightly and killed the pixels threatening to run down his screen. He couldn’t cry real tears, but that didn’t stop the sophisticated AI in his circuitry responding to his mood and animating his screen accordingly. Sometimes it was great, he felt human again when he could display actual emotion rather than having to consciously force the image onto his screen, but at other times it was a curse for the exact same reason. Emotions? In an overlord? It just wasn’t the done thing. 

Valentino had always been able to get under his skin, clawing his way into his emotions where he wasn’t welcome and making him feel confused and out of sorts. Val made him feel newly dead, excited and scared in equal measures. It was awful but at the same time he adored how the purple skinned moth demon could make his afterlife so vibrant and exciting. Being on the arm of the guy who was probably one day going to be the absolute ruler of Lust was a lifestyle any demon in pentagram city would give their right arm for. Some were probably even desperate enough to take that sentiment literally, Vox mused with a grim chuckle.

Not him, though. Val had always said the thing he liked most about him was the fact he had never fawned over him like those dumb bottom feeders did. That made him laugh too. If Val thought that Vox didn’t spend every second of his spare time fawning over him then he was as dumb as he was handsome, and boy did Vox think he was handsome. 

Dejectedly kicking a can on the street Vox sighed, a rush of buzzing static coming from his speakers. They were another gift from Val, an apology for one of their many fights. They were top of the line, he’d sent that spider boy, Angel Dust, out to the store at 2 in the morning just to pick them up for him. They were great, clear audio, nearly invisible on his screen and zero feedback. His moth sure knew how to treat him. 

_Voxxy, baby, I treat you as good as you deserve._

The crack running down his screen was testimony to that. Breaking his face seemed to have become Val’s new favourite hobby when he was mad at him, knowing it was fixable and thinking that meant it was ok. He was never going to permanently damage him, not whilst Pentagram City had some of the best electronics in the universe to fix him up with, so in his mind it was barely worth being upset about. Vox wasn’t inclined to agree on that front. 

He’d gotten back to his home without realising, his thoughts of Val carrying him all the way though the city until he got to Network Tower, the big imposing structure that rose out of the border between Envy and Lust. It was a statement, a firm symbol that he wasn’t just an influencer in one domain, he could command two. Pressing his hand to the sensor panel on the door he walked right past the main desk, ignoring the receptionist who trilled out a cheerful hello. Instead he walked right to the elevator and got in without a word, pressing the button for the basement and crossing his arms tightly as the cab descended. 

Valentino might like his glorious penthouse with sky high views of the city, but Vox preferred something more down to earth. Literally. The entire basement floor of the complex was his private residence, coded to his touch so only he could get in or out. Actually, now he thought about it as he stepped out of the cab and flicked on the lights, that wasn’t entirely true. As an act of trust a few reunions ago he had coded Val’s finger print to the basement floor as well, so that he could come and go as he liked. That couldn’t continue, he said to himself, making his way over to the huge desk that dominated the room. It was surrounded by screens showing CCTV of every inch of Pentagram City, from Lucifer’s palace all the way out to the wastelands of Wrath. He wasn’t interested in those, however, he just wanted the main PC that sat proudly in the centre of the desk. 

Seating himself in his chair he loaded it up and brought up the security system. All it took was a few clicks and Valentino was out of the system for good, as easy as you like. He looked at the command box, empty now except for just his name as having access. Pity, really, that he couldn’t delete the moth from his memory as easily as that.

“Hm, now there’s a thought…” With a small frown he leaned to the side to open up one of the drawers in the desk, taking out a data cable and plugging it into the main tower. Next, he started to undo his tie, setting it on the desk as he moved to unbutton his shirt, exposing the shiny rubber of his skin to the dull blue glow of the computer screen. He plugged the other end of the cable into the access port on his chest and winced at the sting. Connecting to another system always gave him a tingle of static shock and try as he might he’d never been able to completely eliminate it. It was almost like the power running in his body was too intense for any other system to handle without feedback, which was pretty impressive when he thought about it, but he still wished his body didn’t act like such a bitch over it. 

Tapping a few keys he brought up his hard drive and started to scroll through. He’d learned how to look at his brain- or what he called his brain- a few decades ago. It was quite helpful because it was like having a literal photographic memory and meant that he had a log of every single thing that he was exposed to. It had come in handy more than a few times when dealing with demons who thought they could pull a fast one on him. It was also pretty fun to play back his more adult encounters with Valentino when he was feeling needy, like having his own personal spank bank that he could actually watch live. That was what he was looking for now, anything connected to that stupid pimp. 

It wasn’t hard, he could make the system highlight everything related to Valentino with a few well typed commands and soon several files and strings of code lit up green on the computer screen. 

“And, delete,” he said firmly, pressing the key harder than necessary. “Buh bye pesky memories…” 

_Warning: Deleting this amount of data may cause corruption to other user files. Do you want to continue? Y / N?_

“Huh?” His finger hovered over the key as he read the warning message. Slowly, a small chuckle erupted from him, building until it grew into full blown hysterical laughter that echoed around the room. “You have got to be shitting me!” Valentino was such a huge part of his life that it would actually break his system to try and remove him? That was some fucked up irony. With a huff of acceptance he hit ‘No’ and yanked the cable out of his chest, the dialogue box closing down on the screen and leaving it blank. 

“How the fuck did it get like this…” he sighed. 

o0o

_San Quentin State Prison, 1956._

Prisoner 5-0-10 was enjoying his last meal. 

The previous year a new restaurant called McDonalds had opened up in the state of California and quite frankly the prisoner had not been able to get enough of it. Apparently most people asked for fancy steak for their last meal, or tried to con the director into bringing them something impossible or out of season so that they had to delay it. In actual fact, that never worked. If they couldn’t find what you asked for then they just gave you the sludge from the canteen or sent you to the chair with an empty stomach. 5-0-10 had asked for a Big Mac and fries, extra-large with a strawberry milkshake. For dessert he'd asked for a whole box of froot loops and a carton of milk, which- to the visible disgust of the guards- he was now on his 5th bowl of with no signs of stopping. 

“Why are you putting the milk in first?” one of them asked, breaking the silence and watching as the Japanese born man filled up his bowl with the milk and then proceeded to pour cereal on top of. 

“Because otherwise they go soggy,” 5-0-10 replied with a smile as he dug in with the spoon. “What time is it?” 

“17.06,” the second guard told him. “Two minutes after you last asked.” 

“Cool, just don’t want to be late, you know?” 5-0-10 told him, picking up the carton of shake now and taking a noisy slurp. As he removed the straw from his lip some of the pink coloured drink dripped down and landed on his white outfit. “Damn…” he picked at the stain and scowled. “Can I get another one of these?” he asked, gesturing to the stain. Whoever’s bright idea it was to give death row prisoners white outfits was out of their mind. It was a devil to keep clean! 

“No,” was the short, to the point answer he got. 

“Well that’s just rude,” 5-0-10 sighed. “It’s my big day and you want me in a stained shirt? What happened to dignity in death?” 

“Just eat your food.” 

“Fine.” The condemned rolled his eyes and went back to his cereal, repeating the ritual of adding the milk and then the coloured cereal until the box was empty and only the dregs of milk remained. He stared down at the murky coloured milk in the bowl, swallowing thickly as he swirled the spoon around in it, a spiral of colours circling around the prison issue crockery. He lifted the bowl up to his lips and tilted it to drink, remembering drinking the last drops of noodle soup that his mother would make every Sunday when he was a kid like this. 

He hadn’t called her. They’d offered, everyone got one last phone call and heck even if you weren’t on your last day you could actually call your family once a week provided you’d behaved and earned the privilege. He hadn’t taken them up on the offer, not once. What was he supposed to say? 

_Hi, Okaa-sama! America is great, California is so warm. By the way, I strangled my boss to death on live TV with an extension cord and now I’m on death row. Have you been feeding my fish?_

Exactly. So he hadn’t called. Someone would probably inform her afterwards. He had to admit he wasn’t sure what the protocol was. He didn’t have any family in the country since moving from Japan five years ago and none of his supposed friends from the network had come to visit him. He set the now empty bowl back down on the table and rested his hands on the wood, showing that he wasn’t hiding any cutlery or weapons.

With a small nod the two guards left their posts and made their way over to him, instructing him to stand and hold out his wrists for the cuffs. 

“Show time, huh?” He said to them with a small laugh. The sound caught in his throat, sounding dry and forced. He wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared. He _wasn’t_ scared.

Maybe if he kept telling himself that he’d be ok. 

The corridor they led him down was cold and bland, nothing adorning the walls and no markings on the doors. Eventually they stopped at a plain white washed door and opened it, ushering him in. 

The chair stood in the centre, hard wood with straps on the arm rests and attached to a foot rest. Cables ran along the floor to a switch on the wall and his eyes followed it with morbid interest. Perhaps it was poetic justice that after killing a man by garrotting him with a cable that cables were to be his death as well, just in a more dramatic way. 

“Please sit.” The guards ushered him to the chair and he silently sat down, holding out his wrists for the cuffs to be removed only for them to soon be restrained once more, only this time to the leather cuffs on the arm rest. He closed his eyes as the straps went around his feet, counting his breaths. He felt something moist rubbing over his freshly shaved scalp and then something cold pressing against it like a plate. 

“I need to cover your face,” a guard told him, the one who’d questioned his method of eating cereal. 5-0-10 looked at the leather sheet the man was holding and shook his head as best he could. 

“I’m going to look at death face to face,” he told him, aware of how corny and slightly insane the sentiment sounded but meaning it all the same. He was not going to die some faceless nobody. He had always been destined for greatness. He would have gotten it too if that stupid oaf of a TV presenter hadn’t blocked his way. Well, that man had paid for his mistakes and taken him down with him and he was damned if his last moments on earth were going to be of a blank face. No, these men would look at him. They’d remember him. He was not a blank slate, not now, not ever. 

“I have to, it’s part of the- ow! You son of a bitch!” 

Prisoner 5-0-10 had sunk his teeth into the guard’s hand as he tried to put the mask on him, three red streaks of blood passing over his lips and running down his chin in heavy painted lines. He spat some of the blood out onto the floor and grinned manically. 

“Try that again, little boy, and I’ll take your whole finger off,” he hissed, that same hysterical laughter threatening to bubble out again. He bit down on his lip to contain it, trying to keep composed. This was how he was going to be remembered, he didn’t want his last moment to be as a laughing lunatic just as much as he didn’t want his face obscured. 

“Just forget about it,” the man standing by the switch told them, watching as the guard threw the mask down on the floor and cradled his bleeding hand. 

“I heard the shit just fires out of you when they send the volts into your body,” the guard spat, glaring at him with ill-concealed hatred. “Smells brutal.” 

“That’s enough, officer,” the man in charge told them. “Does the condemned have any last words?” 

“Yeah,” 5-0-10 smiled, straightening up in the chair and looking towards the small audience of reporters gathered in the viewing room behind a window. “When is this going to air?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all have no idea how weird my search history is now.
> 
> The only divergence from fact is that California has never used the electric chair. But I wanted Vox in Hollywood! Sue me.


	2. Learning the ropes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox wakes up in Hell and quickly decides that his fate doesn't sit well with him. The quick discovery of his new powers sends him away from Envy and headfirst into Lust where he meets someone all too eager to be his new best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, people seemed to like this idea so here we go with chapter two! Before we start I suppose I should do a little self advertising. If you want to chat fandom with me my twitter handle is @graysongirl4 I'm still figuring out twitter but we'll see how it goes! For cosplay and doll mods check out my insta @sewing_kit. I'm currently working on an Alastor doll and a human Angel cosplay.

5-0-10 had heard that burnt human flesh smelt like pork. As he lay down on the cold earth staring up at a snot green sky he reflected on the fact that he could really go for some barbecue right now. He could see thin wisps of steam rising around him and tried to flex his fingers in the cold slush that was surrounding them. 

“He still has a pulse. Deliver a second shot.” 

He blinked as he listened to the voice that came from nowhere yet seemed to be all around him. A rush of heat ran through his body, finally firing some life into his paralysed limbs. Sitting up he looked at the world around him, lifting up his hand and staring at the handful of white snow that he had lifted up when his fingers had started working again. Shaking his hand he let a flurry fall down onto his lap, the icy flakes melting onto the pants of his jump suit. The heat he had felt a moment ago had disappeared, replaced by a slowly growing sense of cold. 

When he stood up he realised all he could see around him was snow. Everything was stark white and covered in the stuff. Drawing his arms up around himself he shivered and rubbed at his skin to try and warm up his bare forearms, the bitter wind assaulting him like a thousand tiny knives. As he rubbed his skin he was startled to find it didn’t feel quite normal and when he looked down he found that his pale skin was now… rubber? He pinched at it, flinching at the pain as if it was flesh but still feeling the artificial layer. He tried to pull at it but found resistance, a sharp sting of pain causing him to stop in his experimenting. He’d worry about that later. First things first he needed to get out of this cold or he was going to freeze to death. 

Shielding his eyes from the vicious flurry of snow he thought he could make out some buildings in the distance. That seemed like the best course of action so he started to walk towards them, if nothing else he could get some answers about where he was. A minute ago he’d been sitting in the death chamber of San Quentin prison, and now he felt like he was in Narnia or something. 

His bare feet stung with every step, squelching into the thick folds of snow as he walked and feeling almost burning with how cold they were. He found a pavement to follow but even though it was free of snow there was still a thin sheet of black ice covering it that made him almost slip several times, catching hold of whatever was nearby in order to stop himself completely hitting the deck. 

It became apparent soon enough that he wasn’t completely alone here, as he walked he passed a lot of strange looking creatures. Pathetic, twisted mixtures of human and animal. He couldn’t hide his staring as he watched something that looked like a cruel combination of an alligator forced into a humanoid shape trudged down the street closely followed by a small red creature with horns wielding what looked like a baseball bat. 

That wasn’t the only strange thing, either. What was just as bizarre as the animal creatures was the fact that none of them were dressed for the weather. The alligator thing was wearing shorts and a vest! In a snow storm. Were they all crazy? Even now he could feel himself shivering though the coarse material of his jumpsuit and could only imagine how much worse it would be in such minimal clothing. Soon, in the distance he could see a building with the word ‘Welcome’ written across the front of it. Feeling like he was in some strange fever dream where logic was out of the window he shrugged and started to make his way to it. Just like walking towards the other buildings this seemed like the only real option.

Pushing the door open to the building he stopped what he supposed was a reception and walked up to it. He was greeted by another small red creature, only this one looked to be dressed like a typical office worker in a shirt and tie. 

“Take a number and go through door seven,” the creature told him, not even looking up from their paperwork. 

Not one to question the logic of fever dreams, he took a number and went through the assigned door. The room was equally as cold as the outside and a long queue of malformed creatures waited in line, all shivering and holding whatever they could for warmth. 

“Excuse me?” he tapped the shoulder of a hulking bear-like creature in front of him. “Can you tell me where we are?” 

“No talking!” A voice barked out in front of them, and he felt a sharp sting hit his back. Yet another red creature stalked away from them, a long tailed whip dragging along the floor after him. 5-0-10 kept his mouth shut after that, standing in the slow moving queue for what felt like hours until he finally got to the front. 

A red skinned demon with long curling horns sat behind a desk, shuffling papers. He motioned for him to come forward when the last person left through an unmarked door and pulled a fresh file out of his drawer. There was a small portable heater plugged in by the desk, blasting warmth over the desk based imp. 

“Welcome to Hell, Mr…” The imp leaned forward and squinted at the printed label on his jumpsuit where for reasoned known only to the laundry department of San Quentin prison his prison number was written out in roman numerals. “Vox.” 

“No, that’s not my name. My name is-“ 

“Damned will only speak when asked a direct question.” The imp cut him off with a flick of his hand that sent a shockwave of pain through his body, nearly sending him to the floor. “As I was saying Mr Vox. Welcome to Hell. You have been assigned to the district of Envy with a starting sentence of 10,000 years. Please make your way through the door to be assigned your personal tormentor. Have a nice day.” The demon pointed to the door behind him. “Next.” 

“Wait, hang on a second,” the newly christened Vox interrupted him. “Hell? Personal tormentor? I don’t think so.” 

“Please make your way through the door. Damned must direct all questions to their PT during orientation.” 

“No.” Vox felt something crackling in his finger tips and looked down. The grey skin of his fingers was sparking with electric blue pulses, lines of pure energy bouncing between his fingertips.

“I will not repeat myself again,” the imp told him. “I said make your way through the door or there will be consequences.” 

“And I said no!” Vox shouted, arcing his hand over his head and throwing the jumble of electricity towards the imp. A brilliant white explosion erupted in front of him and he clenched his fists once more, summoning up the same energy he had just wielded. He didn’t know what he was doing, or why it was happening, but he wasn’t going to stand here questioning it. With a powerful burst he flung both hands out in front and fired again, bolts searing through the air and reducing the desk to dust. 

“I don’t think I like it here,” he said quietly as smoke settled around him. “Too cold. Too bossy.” He looked around at the cowering crowd of demons and imps pressing themselves against the walls, letting crackles of energy drip from his fingers as he slowly walked across the room back the way he came. “If it’s alright by you, I’ll find somewhere else.” 

o0o

No one stopped him. Either word traveled fast or people were so unused to sinners saying no to their own fate that no one knew what to do. Whatever the reason was, he left the building completely unchallenged. 

The bitter wind still blew through the streets as he left the so-called welcome office. He had to get out of this cold. Part of the reason he had left Aomori City was to get away from the bitter winters full of snow. California had been a literal dream come true with its long hot days and if he hadn’t have experienced the unfortunate inconvenience of death he had no trouble thinking he’d have spent the rest of his life there. 

Where he was now? Not the place he wanted to spend the rest of his life. He supposed that was afterlife now. Should he be panicking more? As he trudged through the snow trying to retrace his steps to where he had woken up he mused he should probably be more worked up about the apparent change in events he was going through. Hell. That creature had said he was in Hell. That checked out, if he was being honest. People had been telling him since middle school that he was going to Hell and he had to admit he’d not really done much to prove them wrong. People just had an irritating habit of being in his way or saying things to him that he didn’t like, and that was simply unacceptable. Did they not realise he was going to be a star? Stars didn’t have time for idiots causing problems for them.

There was a sign up ahead and when he got to it he tried to make sense of it. It was presumably some kind of map, only it didn’t look like one he’d ever seen on earth. A huge pentagram shape dominated the metal sign and literal dots of fire burned at various points of the star, tiny words etched next to each flame in curling handwriting. As he reached out to try and trace a line from where he was to anywhere else on the map a small, blue flame lit up under his finger, drawing a line on the map. 

“Well, that’s… helpful,” he commented out loud, experimentally drawing some loops with the blue light and smirking as it sparked at the speed of his movements. “Ok, so where are we?” He spotted a shiny ‘you are here’ motif and drew a line away from it until he landed on the nearest flame. “Lust district,” he read, for the first time since waking up a smile crept across his face. “Sure, I could go for a bit of lust.” 

o0o

“And don’t come back until you have some cold, hard cash!” 

The moth demon, one Valentino by name, hit the ground hard, swearing as water from a puddle on the sidewalk splashed a grimy stain on his new shirt. “Like I wanted to stay in your cheap ass joint! Your whores have got saggy tits anyway!” he shouted back as the club owner slammed the door in his face. Thumping the ground in anger he lifted himself up and inspected the damage to his outfit. That was just great, he was straight out of cash and now he had to find a way to clean his one good shirt. Perfect. 

“Excuse me?” 

He turned at the noise behind him that sounded like a bad telephone connection and barked out a laugh. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one having a bad clothes day. The wretch in front of him looked and smelt like he’d just crawled through a sewer. The less said about his mess of a face the better. 

“Fuck off,” he sneered, fluffing up his collar and making to leave. The thing came closer and took hold of his arm to stop him. Now he was closer he looked even worse, a beaten up looking TV screen where his head should be and wires sticking out of what was supposed to be a neck. Valentino had seen a lot of weird demons in his time, but he hadn’t seen anything as freaky as this. He’d almost feel sorry for the guy if that was an emotion he had any experience of. 

“I haven’t even said anything yet!” The electronic creature snapped, a frown pixelating on that screen like face. 

“Don’t care. I aint charity,” Val shrugged. “You stink, by the way. You should deal with that.” 

“Do I?” For the first time the creature seemed to actually notice what he was wearing and looked down at the mess covering what could bravely be described as clothes. “Oh,” he nodded in realisation, looking strangely calm as if he was just analysing something he was seeing on someone else. “Yeah, they said that would probably happen. Listen, I’m having a really bad day. I think I’m dead and something is really wrong with my, well, everything.” 

“You’re tellin’ me, pal.” Val smirked, taking the odd new comer by the arm and steering him up to a shop window so he could show him his reflection. “Smile, Sparkie.” 

“It’s… Vox,” Vox told him, focusing on his reflection and reaching up to gingerly touch the glass that was now his face. The name seemed as good as any. It had a nice ring to it, short and sharp. _Vox._ A rainbow of colours flared around his fingertips as he pressed down, blurring the edges of his mouth as he opened and closed it, trying to piece together this madness. 

“Vox,” Valentino repeated. “Cool. I’m Valentino, friends call me Val. I take it you’re new here?” 

“Seems so,” Vox agreed, still not taking his digital eyes off his reflection. He clasped his hands around his throat, fingering the collection of wires but stopping when pulling too hard on one caused his eyes to flicker so badly that he thought he had gone blind for a few seconds. Ok, so lesson one, don’t touch the important cables. “I went to this weird building,” he explained, tearing his gaze away from inspecting himself in the window and looking at Val. “There was snow, and red creatures.” 

“Ah, little green eyed monster are we?” Val smiled. “That’s cute. I love Envy dwellers, always so eager to please.” An almost hungry look flashed in his eyes that made Vox want to roll over like a dog. The moth demon reached out and stroked his purple fingers down the edge of Vox’s screen, smirking at the static pop that filtered through the bulky speakers at his touch. “They’re so cold and regimented over there, all that protocol and office crap. People who get sent to Lust just arrive and make their own way from there. No paperwork bullshit, plus it’s much warmer.” 

“Yeah… warm…” Vox nodded. Something was glitching in his eyes again except nothing was anywhere near those cables this time. He jerked his head away from the moth demon and took a step back. “So this is the Lust district?” he asked, wanting to get a handle on where he was so that he could plan his next move. 

“The one and only,” Val confirmed with a mocking bow. “Welcome to the birth place of sex, drugs and rock n roll.” 

“Know anywhere I can find a place to crash?” Vox asked. “Guess I didn’t stay in that Envy place long enough to find out about the logistics of room rental in Hell.” 

“Can’t help ya, buddy, I’m stone cold broke.” 

“Sorry to hear that,” Vox told him. Yeah, sorry that it meant this guy was absolutely useless to him and couldn’t help. “I won’t waste anymore of your time.” He spied what looked like a bank across the street and started to walk over to it, conscious that the moth demon was watching him as he walked away. When he stopped outside the tall building he squinted at a machine sunk into the wall. It had buttons on it and a digital screen. He’d never seen an ATM before, but it didn’t take a genius- which he was, by the way- to figure out what it was for. 

“Well, well. Hell certainly is advanced,” he murmured with a grin. Interaction-free cash withdrawals, what a beautiful idea. Time to see what else these odd little electricity powers he’d acquired could do. He put his hand on the screen and focused on trying to summon that same energy again, feeling a jolt in his chest as _something_ seemed to happen. It was like he’d suddenly gotten tunnel vision. All he could see were streams of numbers and currency symbols zipping around his vision. It was a jumble of chaos, digital code moving so fast it was almost blurry. He tried to focus on just one stream of the numbers and quickly worked out how to command it, feeling his fingers dance across the keys of the ATM like second nature. 

That same jolt fired in his chest again and his vision returned to normal. Shaking his head to re-orientate himself he looked down at a pile of money spitting out of the ATM onto the floor in front of him. 

“You know what, I’ve decided I’m feeling really charitable today,” came Valentino’s voice behind him. “Let’s help find you a place to stay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember kids, if someone is your friend just because you know how to hack ATMs they probably aren't your friend. Val isn't an overlord here yet, if that's not already obvious. 
> 
> Also sorry not sorry that Vox is wandering around completely calm with the fact he's covered in his own crap. Electrocution is a bitch and so is he. It has a plot point I swear rather than just gratuitous torment! 
> 
> This chapter featured yet more of my world building in regards to how I see Hell and I hope you like it. All due respect to Vivziepop I really don't like the canon that all human sinners live in the Pride district so that notion will never feature in my stories. I much prefer the idea of segregation by sin.


	3. I want a robot man to hold me tight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox goes back to Valentino's apartment to puzzle out more of his new anatomy, a puzzle that Val is more than happy to help him solve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ironically this fic is writing a lot faster than my usual ones. Vox just seems to flow which is a very nice relaxing way to be able to write. Plus the fact this fic is less about plot and more about musings on different points in his afterlife seems to help. Following this chapter there will start to be a few times skips, spanning the pairs afterlife together up until a point where they can be considered "over lords" 
> 
> This chapter is hella NSFW by the way. Content warning for mentions of inhuman anatomy and references to the fact that Vox is, you know, a robot creature.

Valentino was making a small tower out of the stacks on money on his coffee table. 

“That’s a really neat trick, ya know,” he commented cheerfully, adding another stack of bills to what looked like a jenga tower that was just about to topple over. Sure enough, the latest pile of green notes was the straw that broke the camel’s back and the whole structure came toppling down. The crisp money fell like confetti over the floor, causing Val to laugh with glee. “Man this is more money than I’ve ever seen in my life!” 

“You’re welcome,” Vox replied. He was standing in front of a mirror trying to puzzle out his new body some more. Unbuttoning the top of his jumpsuit he trailed one hand down his rubbery chest and fingered around a rectangular shaped port over his heart. As he held his hand over it he couldn’t feel the familiar steady beat of a heart, rather he could feel a strange humming vibration like a fan of some sort. Pressing too hard garnered the same result as pinching his arm had done- it hurt. Basically although it didn’t appear that he had flesh anymore, he still had what could gamely be described as nerves. 

“Got a bathroom in this closet you call an apartment?” He asked, glancing over his shoulder at Val. 

“Yeah, it’s over there,” the moth gestured lazily, intent on piling his new favourite thing back up into little stacks on the cobbled together coffee table. The whole apartment was a tiny open plan affair, with a kitchenette attached to the open living room. Vox hadn’t found anything like a bed yet and didn’t want to ask. The moth demon had said he could stay seen as he’d so kindly let him keep some of the money he’d liberated but he hadn’t explained sleeping arrangements just yet. 

“Thanks.” Making his way into the even smaller bathroom, Vox gingerly stepped out of the stained jumpsuit, dropping it into the tub and deciding he’d ask about laundry later. He ripped off the itchy disposable briefs he’d been wearing under the suit and shoved them into the trash, relieved as he looked down between his legs and discovered that, despite the fact he might look like a silicone doll right now, he could at least argue that he was an anatomically correct one. Thank Lucifer for that. 

Now came the part that was bugging him the most. Was he a waterproof silicone doll or was he going to have to spend the rest of his afterlife smelling like the back end of something. He gingerly turned the shower on and stuck his hand under the running water, flexing his wrist this way and that. The ball joint that made up his wrist seemed fine as he held it under the water but after a moment or two he started to see sparks spluttering under the stream. He quickly removed it and shut off the shower head, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his sparking wrist. His fingers twitched at the pressure, but at least he could still feel them. 

“Uh… Val?” He called, awkwardly nudging the door open and peeping out into the living room where Val was entertaining himself counting out each bill again. “Little, um, help?” 

“What’s up?” Val came to the doorway and peered into the bathroom, taking in the towel wrapped around Vox’s hand and the puddle of water draining away in the tub. “Ah. Not waterproof, huh? Damn, that’s a bitch.” 

“What do I do?” Vox asked desperately, the face image on his screen scrunched up in concern. “I don’t want to, I don’t know, short circuit or something. Who knows what that would mean?” 

“Hm, gimme a sec I think I might have something that would work,” Val told him, patting his arm through the towel and winking. Leaning around him he pulled open a tiny cupboard under the sink and took out a chunky aerosol can and a fleece cloth. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you look like you’re made of the same kind of thing my current, ahem, boyfriend is made of.” 

“Your current…” Vox glanced down at the writing on the can, a pink flush of animation flaring across his screen. “You are not cleaning me with what you clean up _sex toys_ with!” he shrieked, battling the can away as Valentino creased up laughing. 

“Calm down, princess,” Val chuckled. “It’s for anything made of rubber. Don’t be such a prude. Look, sit down and I’ll show you.” He guided Vox to sitting down on the edge of the tub and knelt down between his legs, spreading them apart. “Mm, nice view.” 

“Uh-huh,” the same pink flare travelled over his screen once more and Vox made a mental note to learn how to control his dumb screen better. “Not bad at all.”

“I’ll be gentle,” Val promised with a leer, spraying a liberal amount onto Vox’s thigh and massaging it in with the cloth. It lifted away the dirt and grime in seconds, leaving the rubber looking shiny and fresh off the production line. “See?” He ran his hand along the clean synthetic skin and squeezed. “Good as new.” 

“Yeah,” Vox nodded, reflexively tensing up at the touch as Val continued his work. The moth demon was true to his word, gently buffing his fake flesh until it shone, alternating between spraying more of the oil substance on him and wiping at the dirt but Vox still found it nigh impossible to relax, especially as the demon between his legs crept higher up, resting his hands on his chest. He started to draw teasing circles around the strange little ports on his chest, gliding his nail delicately across the seam that joined them to his body. 

“Can you feel that?” He purred, pinching slightly and causing Vox to gasp. 

“Uh-huh,” Vox nodded, a faint crackling in his speakers as he arched his back against the touch. A nagging sensation grew in his stomach and he heard himself whine as Valentino continued to toy with his chest, teasing those entry points with his finger tips and raking his nails softly along his rubbery skin. 

“Feels good?”

“Uh-huh.” 

“Verbose little green eyed monster, aren’t you?” Val smirked, halting in his exploration and letting his hands snake down to Vox’s waist, resting his hands atop his hips. “I realised I didn’t properly thank you for all that lovely moolah you gave me.” 

“You’re letting me stay here,” Vox pointed out weakly, wondering why the moth had stopped all of a sudden. 

“True,” Val agreed, leaning back and taking hold of Vox’s slowly hardening cock in his hands and starting to pump up and down. “But I want to show you just how _grateful_ I am.” He felt the demon harden more as he worked, squeezing slightly and feeling the firmness of it. It made him purr with delight at the thought of how amazing that would feel inside of him but stored that idea for another day. Right now he wanted to show his new houseguest he was still in charge. 

“You’re not saying no,” he pressed on, using his free hand to rest on the side of Vox’s cabled neck and pull him close, pressing a curious kiss to his screen. “Wanna play, Sparkie?” 

“God, yes,” Vox responded eagerly, moaning at the touch and responding to the kiss with one of his own. The physics seemed impossible, but he succeeded in taking Val’s tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss and putting his arms around him to squeeze him closer. 

“Let’s see what Lucifer gave ya to work with,” Val murmured, planting another kiss on his screen before hoisting Vox from the edge of the tub and down onto his lap. It was cramped in the bathroom but there was space enough for what he wanted to do. Sending a quick prayer of thanks to whatever God designed multi-purpose silicone spray he unbuckled his pants and slicked himself up. Of course he was ready, he was always ready for fun like this and Vox was a brand new toy that he couldn’t wait to play with. 

The myriad of colours that blossomed on Vox’s screen as Val entered him made the moth moan in delight. Who’d have thought a screen could be so expressive? He watched as the TV demon struggled to keep a fixed expression on his screen, flicking between a blissed out eyes rolled back look of pure ecstasy and rainbows coloured hold screens. 

“That’s it baby, let it all go,” he growled, pulling him down for another kiss and working his tongue along the edge of his screen until he found the jumble of cables that made up his throat. He worked his lips along the covered cables, teasing his tongue around them and grinning at the flickers of static that sparked onto his tongue as he manipulated them. Vox moaned deeply as he violated the mass of wires in sync with fucking him, causing him to reach up and grab hold of the edge of the tub behind them for support. 

“You feel so tight,” he praised him, gasping as the demon clenched around him, squeezing him so Goddamn well he thought he might finish right there and then. He growled possessively once more, nipping at the cables of Vox’s throat with his teeth and moaning once again at the tingle of static dancing across his lips. The demon underneath him didn’t complain at the invasion, tilting his head back as far as it seemed to go to expose his neck to more of those hungry bites and kisses. Val trembled at the tingling sensation that Vox seemed to be subconsciously sending through his whole body right down to where the moth demon was inside of him and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer with this kind of stimulation. 

Vox seemed to be having the same thought as he released his pent up seed against Val, groaning deeply as he rode it out. That was more than enough to tip Val over the edge too and he roughly pinned the other demon against the side of the tub as he came deep into him, beating his hips against his and holding himself in deep. Panting hard he eased himself away and rested back on his heels, rubbing one hand over his face and grinning lazily. 

“Looks like ya still work, buddy,” he smirked, falling to the side so that he was sitting comfortably on the floor with his back against the wall opposite. 

Vox was still panting, a blank white background filling his screen with a bright light until he took a few steadying breathes and forced his face back into view. His eyes were half shut and his mouth was hanging open, a few lazy stars animating around his eyes. 

“Looks like it,” he breathed, sluggishly pulling himself up to a better sitting position and feeling the cables at his neck where Val had been kissing them. 

“Hell might have its problems, but at least Lucifer didn’t take that away from us,” Val chuckled softly. “How’s your first day feeling so far?” 

“Well losing my life and my virginity on the same day sure wasn’t what I planned to do today, but yeah I’ll take it,” Vox laughed, the words coming out before he really realised what he was saying. 

“Damn, pal,” Val whistled. “Should have told me. I’d have pulled the bed out for ya if I knew I was poppin’ your cherry and took my time.” 

“I didn’t mean it,” Vox lied quickly. 

“Sure, you meant another word that sounded just like virginity,” Val rolled his eyes. “You need to learn to control that screen more, pal. Nothin’ like wearin’ your emotions literally right on your face to get yourself into trouble.” He tucked himself back in and zipped up, rooting around in his back pocket for a packet of cigarettes. He slid one out and lit up, offering the last one to Vox who took it gratefully and leaned forward for the moth to light it. 

“I wonder if I can upgrade myself,” Vox mused thoughtfully, taking a slow drag and puffing out the smoke. It was a strange red colour, but he wasn’t about to question the colour of the cigarettes down here after everything else he’d been exposed to today. Purple skinned moths with four hands and a mouth like nothing he’d ever felt before was more than enough to turn his world upside down, thank you very much. 

“What? Like take bits off and put new ones on?” Val frowned. “Sounds like Frankenstein shit to me. Think you can give yourself a vibratin’ cock or somethin’?”

“No, like… I don’t know,” Vox shrugged. “Just thinking out loud. Are there other demons like me out there?” 

“Not that I’ve seen,” Val shrugged. “Mostly just animals and, like, Dante type shit, horns and wings and stuff like that. There’s the Radio Demon but that’s not a literal thing, I don’t think he has like actual radio bits.” 

“That sucks,” Vox sighed, dropping his spent cigarette onto the messed up jumpsuit in the tub to stub it out and stretching his arms up, feeling his fake muscles crack and stretch. If he was dead, then that meant he had eternity to puzzle out what his body meant. He didn’t have to solve all those mysteries today as much as he wanted to. 

“As much as I’d love to sit here talking the logics of robotics with ya,” Val told him, breaking into his thoughts and standing up from his cramped seat on the floor. “I gotta go to work.” 

“There’s work in Hell?” Vox asked, standing up to join him and suddenly very aware that he was naked. He didn’t fancy putting his shit stained clothes back on. 

“Duh, it’s Hell.” Val rolled his eyes, taking a robe from a hook on the door and tossing it to Vox as he sensed what he was thinking. It dwarfed the TV demon and had far too many arm holes for his shape, but at least it kept him covered. 

“What do you do?” 

Val shrugged non-committedly. “Ya know, bit of everythin’. Import, export. Nothin’ fancy. I’ll be back late so just pull out the bed if you want to get some sleep.” 

“Huh?” 

“The sofa. Pull out the sofa,” Val explained slowly as if he was speaking to a child. “Sheets are underneath it. I think there’s food in the fridge, I don’t know. Eh, it’s not like we’re short of cash now so phone for take-out if you want.” 

“Right…” Vox’s head was spinning slightly with all this new information, but he followed Val out of the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the sofa as the moth took a coat from the closet and slipped it on. 

“Cool, see ya later,” Val blew a kiss as he left the apartment, looking the door and leaving a still stunned Vox staring as it closed. 

“What the fuck just happened?” Vox breathed softly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah Vox, what did just happen?
> 
> Writing Val as being poor is the weirdest thing....


	4. Make mine prime time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox finds a new calling in his unlife less than 24 hours after arriving in Hell, but Hell aint Hollywood and the executives bite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I lied. This chapter isn't a time skip. Oopsy! That comes next chapter.

Eventually Vox came back to something akin to his senses and shook himself out of the head funk he was in. Right, so he was dead and had just had sex with a four armed demon creature who was a few feet taller than him and had just left him alone in his apartment. His apartment in Hell. 

Was he getting all this? 

With a small sigh that sounded like air rushing through a microphone he stood up from the sofa and started to explore. It didn’t take long, his guess that Val didn’t have much more than this few feet across open plan living room-diner combo plus the small ensuite was correct. Pulling the oversized robe tighter around himself he padded back into the bathroom and gingerly picked his clothes out of the tub. It wasn’t an ideal situation but he didn’t have anything else to wear that had the right amount of arm holes and wasn’t several sizes too big for him. Until he could find out where one went shopping in Hell he’d need to make do. 

Finding the washing machine was a task and when he eventually found it hidden behind a fake cupboard door he shoved the jumpsuit in and up ended the entire box of what he assumed was detergent into the drawer. The box featured a perky cartoon angel and had the caption “washes away all your sins!” in cheerful letters under the exaggerated cartoon’s face. 

“That’ll be the day,” he muttered sardonically, switching the machine on and making the few step journey back to the sitting area and switching on the TV. It was a small set, black and white with a bent antennae tapped together with electrical tape and what looked like a paperclip, but it worked and that was the main thing. 

Soon enough he realised he had passed several hours watching a current events show with a hostess called Katie Killjoy. She was utterly captivating and he watched open mouthed as she viciously cut down every guest on her show with perfectly delivered venom. Her co-host wasn’t worth writing home about and seemed to take as much abuse as the guests. He watched as she quite literally shot the man- Vox hadn’t bothered to pay attention to the co-host’s name- through the head at one point during an interview when he spoke over her and Vox decided he’d found his new goal. 

Prime time, talk show TV on Hell’s number one network. What could be better? 

First thing tomorrow he’d make Val take him to where the best shops in Hell were so that he could buy himself the sharpest suit they had. He’d charmed his way into a job on network back in Hollywood as a runner so there was absolutely no reason he could see why he shouldn’t do the exact same thing down here and work his way up. It was past midnight when he looked at the clock and if his mother had taught him anything it was that you couldn’t achieve anything without a good night’s sleep beforehand. 

He pulled out the boxy sofa bed and spread out the sheets that Val had told him would be waiting. They were a kind of fake, slippery poly-satin that made him feel like he was on some kind of porn set and everywhere he positioned himself he could feel a spring digging into him, but somehow he managed to fall asleep. 

o0o

A good night of rest is all well and good until someone drunkenly pulls you out of it by bursting into the place you are sleeping whilst loudly singing Elvis Presley songs. 

“Geez, Val it’s like 3am,” Vox whined, tugging the sheets over his head as the moth demon fell onto the bed beside him. 

“Heh, sorry,” the demon giggled, sticking his leg up in the air and trying to fumble about in the dark to take his boots off. Vox rolled his eyes and experimented focusing on the light switch across the room, striking gold when he realised he could map the wires along the wall and switch the lights on without even moving. 

“Aw, thank you, Sparkie,” Val slurred, nearly falling off the make shift bed as he started trying to unfasten a dozen small buckles along the side of his ridiculous boots. 

“What are you wearing?” Vox asked. “I thought you went to work.” 

“I did go to work,” Val insisted, dropping one of the boots to the floor and starting on the next one. “Then my boss took me to this real swanky joint and these guys gave me some sugar.” He swayed a little and gave up trying to take his other boot off, falling back onto the pillows and stroking his hands through the fluff of his collar. “Then after that I don’t really know… but I made a butt load of money so that’s cool. Heh… butt load…” 

“There’s money here, Val,” Vox pointed out, gesturing to the small towers that Val had left on the table. “If you needed cash you should have took some.” 

“Well I didn’t think you’d still be here, y’know?” Val mumbled, scrambling under the covers still fully clothed. “Nobody normally sticks around after bangin’ with me.” 

“Not like I got anywhere else to go,” Vox explained. “Come here.” He tugged the sheets down and started to ease Val out of his clothes, snickering a little at the moth’s slurred protests that he just needed five minutes then he’d be good to go. 

“I’m not trying to get you into bed, idiot,” Vox told him, folding up a top that was made up of a collection of leather straps and fishnet material. “Not in that way anyway. Listen, I watched this thing on TV earlier, a talk show. I want to go out tomorrow and get a job, like the one I had on earth.” 

“Katie Killjoy doesn’t touch the gays,” Val mumbled sleepily, tugging the covers back up over himself and groggily dragging Vox down next to him. “Ssh, don’t use big words now, baby. Daddy’s gotta sleep.” 

“Did you just call yourself Daddy in the third person?” Vox asked, but the moth was already fast asleep and snoring loudly. “Right… fine. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

o0o

After injecting his roommate with several cups of coffee, Vox dragged Valentino out the next morning bright and early to explore the city. Val seemed to perk up a little at the prospect of shopping and after hiding his hangover with a pair of dark, oversized shades he led Vox down to the best parts of the Greed district to kit him out in some new swag. His words, not Vox’s. 

“For the best clothes you want the Pridelands,” Val was explaining as he held up various shirts against Vox, eyeing them critically before swapping them out for others to hold up. He’d decided he was Vox’s personal shopper at this point, explaining to Vox that he didn’t have a clue what he was doing when Vox had picked up an honest to God Hawaiian shirt and said that it looked cool. Val had told him he wasn’t to be trusted buying clothes after that. “But it’s mad expensive over there, so unless you want to hit up a few more ATMs they are majorly out of our price range. Plus you need, like, the king of Hell to invite you into the district so it’s basically impossible to get through the gates unless you’re ass fucking some royals. Try this on.” He tossed a pale blue shirt to Vox along with a black and red striped vest. 

“Really? This colour combination?” Vox asked sceptically, unwilling to take the advice of a man who thought a tiger print satin shirt and purple jeans was a good idea- which was exactly what Valentino was wearing right now. 

“Yes, really,” Val sighed dramatically, knowing his genius was wasted on his current audience. “Then you’ll put this black pinstripe jacket over it with those black pants over there and you’ll look a million bucks.” 

“Fine.” Anything was better than the white jumpsuit. It had come out of the wash as if it was brand new, not a trace of any after-death unpleasantness left and now with a soft floral scent. It still didn’t mean he wanted to be wearing it though. Not when other, classier options were available. With a bit of reluctance he went into the changing room and tugged on the clothes, looking at himself in the mirror and having to admit that he looked… kinda cool. He straightened the cuffs on the shirt, the blue just adding a flash of colour to the black jacket and not looking half as garish with the striped vest as he had thought it would. 

“I take it back, Val,” he grinned as he came out to show off the look. “Maybe you’re on to something.” He caught sight of a row of bowties and picked up a red one, experimenting tying it around his collar and looking to Val for approval. 

“Well… if _you_ like it,” Val said slowly, shrugging with an expression that clearly advertised that he hated the TV demon’s addition to his masterpiece. 

“I do like it,” Vox replied cheerfully. “It looks swag.” 

“That’s… really not what swag means,” Val tried to point out, sighing in exasperation when Vox put a handful of cash down on the till and told the imp behind the counter that there was no need to wrap them, that he was just going to leave wearing them if that was ok. 

“Of course, Sir,” the imp smiled, counting out the money and handing him some change. “Would you like a bag for your old clothes?” 

“Not at all,” Vox scoffed. “Throw it in the trash I don’t ever want to see it again.” 

“Hey, don’t be too hasty,” Val interjected, rescuing the jumpsuit before the imp could do as Vox instructed and bundle it up to dispose of. 

“Why not?” 

“Keep it,” Val grinned. “We can play dress up sometime with it. Little bit of prison roleplay.” 

“Gee, and I was going to ask how a saint like you ended up being condemned for lust.” 

o0o

“This is it,” Vox, tugged Val by the arm up to the door of Studio 666. The imposing building stretched up high above the over office blocks around it, the gleaming letters on the sign flashing brightly. It wasn’t the tallest structure, Val had pointed out Lucifer’s palace on the horizon and something called the Radio Tower, but it was still an impressive sight to behold. Vox felt a tingle of excitement in his circuits as he pushed the door open, taking a deep breath and composing himself. 

“Hey, dollface,” he winked at the receptionist, channelling the same energy that had gotten him his job on earth. Get an in with the admin staff and you were sailing, reception was the first hurdle. Get the bimbo on the desk to let you past and everything was easy peasy. 

“Do you have an appointment?” The receptionist looked like a literal doll with a bright painted face and pouting lips that looked a little too uncanny and perfect to be real. As Vox looked closer he could see bumps of scales under the thick layer of foundation covering her skin and smiled. 

“Gee, beautiful, I must have just forgotten to call,” Vox sighed dramatically. It was at this point on earth he’d have fallen back on his gleaming white teeth and perfect hair, but now he didn’t have that to work with. “Say, how about you work the same magic that made you so gosh darn pretty and just buzz me on through. I want to have a chat with your boss man.” 

“This is physically painful to watch,” Val murmured next to him, rolling his eyes to the heavens. 

“Ignore my friend, angel face,” Vox glared at him sideways. “He’s just a bit cranky this morning. So how’sabout it? Can you snag a little in for me and my buddy?” 

“I’m sorry, Sir, but our _boss man_ , as you put it, is very busy right now,” the receptionist told him. “Miss Killjoy doesn’t accept meetings without a week’s notice.”

“Wait, Katie Killjoy runs the network?” Vox asked. “That’s perfect! I love her show. Please, just let me talk to her, back on earth I-“

“Yeah, yeah, you and every other sinner that walks through these doors,” the receptionist went back to her computer and blocked him out of her line of vision. “Book an appointment like everyone else and Miss Killjoy might see you. If she feels like it.” 

Vox hung his head dejectedly, muttering a half hearted thanks to the receptionist purely for the sake of not burning any bridges. His fingers crackled with the same energy he’d used back at the welcome centre but he forced it away, swallowing the urge to blow the desk creature across the room to get his own way. Angry bursts of emotion had been what had gotten him down here in the first place and bar his lapse of composure back in Envy he vowed he was never going to let himself react on instinct like that again.

Death had given him a second chance and he was not going to blow it. 

By the luck of whatever powers resided here, Katie Killjoy walked right into the reception area at that very moment.

She was snapping at one of her assistants, a terrified looking fox demon who was trying to juggle a stack of files, two cups of coffee and take notes at the same time. 

“Tell Mammon that if he wants prime time advertising for his trashy theme park he needs to really bring his A game,” Katie was saying to the fox demon, oblivious to their struggle trying to do three jobs at once. “If he wants my influence he has to work for it.”

“Yes, Miss Killjoy!” The fox demon nodded frantically, trying to hold her pen in her mouth to write on the notepad precariously balanced atop one of the coffee cups. 

“Miss Killjoy!” Breaking away from Val, Vox took a chance and put himself in front of the grinning demon host, blocking her exit and sending the Fox faced assistant staggering backwards. “Miss Killjoy, hi. I’m a huge fan. I just died yesterday and I was watching your show and-“

“Excuse me, who let the equipment walk out of the store closet?” Katie interrupted, snapping her fingers at her assistant. “Ruka? Deal with the obstruction.”

“I just want ten minutes of your time,” Vox insisted. “Five! Back on earth I worked on this huge network and I want to apply here. I promise you won’t be disappointed. I know how the industry works, I’m really passionate about it.”

“Talk about a face for radio,” Katie snorted, walking past him. “Listen, kid, this is cute and all but this isn’t Hollywood. Sweet little nobodies like you can’t just roll in on a dime and expect to get a job. Take your La La Land dreams and get off my runway. Come back in a few years once you’ve got some souls behind you and maybe I’ll see if I can find you a job bringing me my coffee. Beat it, robot.”

Without a second glance back, Katie marched past him. Her assistant scurried after her, dropping several of her files in her haste to keep up with her boss. 

“Come on, Voxxy,” Val put his hand on his shoulder. “This cheap ass network aint worth the shit anyway. Let’s go grab some cash and get high. I’ll show you where the real cool places in Hell are.” 

Vox bent down to pick up one of the files from the floor, scrunching it up tightly in his hands. The edges of the paper curled in his fingers, singing black as sparks flared around his grasp. 

“Hell aint seen nothing yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when I started planning this, Alastor was going to be the one to say something cutting to Vox and give him the drive to become an overlord but then... damn it Katie Killjoy put herself right in the way. Please send love to her overworked kitsune assistant.
> 
> Next chapter will give us a time jump to a little bit later down the line and Val and Vox moving on up in the world.


	5. Prime time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val and Vox move up in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight delay in writing this as the time skip and how to do it threw me. I realised I was overthinking it and that you're all smart cookies so can work out what's going on.

The new apartment was amazing. Valentino jumped onto the couch, kicking up his heels on the cushions and threw back his head laughing.

“You hit the jackpot, Voxxy!” He cackled, rolling onto his back and stretching out. “These are some sweet digs.” 

“Glad you like ‘em,” Vox smiled, putting down the boxes he’d been carrying and looking around the new place. It had been six months since his failure at the TV studio and he hadn’t been deterred one bit. Whilst Valentino had been happy to just walk away and carry on with his afterlife Vox had experienced a rush of determination even more powerful than the one he had felt on earth when he had seen that studio. Winning the hearts and minds of humanity via the media was one thing, but how many people could claim to rule the media of Hell itself? To have a captive audience of damned souls and demons alike tuned in to your greatness? The thought kept him awake at night, kept him driven throughout the day as he spent every waking minute trying to get a grasp on these strange powers his death seemed to have given him. 

A better living situation had become a necessity for them both. Valentino’s apartment had barely been fit for one person to live in never mind two, and the more Vox started experimenting with himself the more space he needed. The closet apartment in a back alley of the red light district was just not going to cut it any more. 

It had been an excellent learning opportunity, getting the apartment. Hell had such a sophisticated amount of technology compared to earth that had meant Vox had needed to completely re-educate himself on certain things. He’d always been the kid who liked to play with science in his bedroom and this was just a continuation of that. The technology of Hell was just one big playground for him to explore now. It really drained him sometimes, but he had found that if he focused really hard and had access to a computer on the main network he could tap into other desktops that were linked to it. Bank accounts, security details, property information, it was all just opened up to him when he connected himself up. 

Scoring the apartment had started out as a test for himself to see if he could actually do it. It had been a relatively easy thing to find one for sale, the next step just came down to editing some details and boom it was theirs. 

It was actually a lot more technical than that but those were the basic terms he’d used to explain it to Valentino and the moth had been more than happy to accept that they now owned a Penthouse in one of the most exclusive buildings in Hell. Vox did sometimes wish Val would show more of an interest in this stuff. The moth was more than happy to sit back and let Vox do all the technical things and then reap the benefits of them. Vox found he couldn’t stay moody about it for long, after all he enjoyed doing these things and Valentino had an admittedly great method of thanking him every time Vox produced more money.   
“It’ll be a good base of operations,” Vox said as he started to unload some of the boxes for things he wanted. “The future media overlord needs a cool place to live.” 

“Geez, Sparkie, just relax.” Val rolled his eyes from the sofa. “You can have anything you want here, why do ya gotta be chasing a job all the time? Overlords have to do work and shit. Who wants that? Real power is having everyone else do stuff around you. You wouldn’t catch me slaving away just to keep some dumb Hell title.” 

“You’d get bored,” Vox told him, lifting out a set of screwdrivers and inspecting them. “You have all eternity down here and you want to spend it doing what you’re doing right now?” 

“Suits me just fine, sugar.” 

“Really?” Vox asked sceptically. “There’s absolutely nothing else you want in your afterlife?” 

“…it’s stupid,” Val mumbled, sitting up and folding his arms across his chest, staring at the piles of boxes Vox had brought up that had his clothes in. 

“Nothing’s stupid, Val,” Vox told him, putting the set off tools down and making his way over to Val, perching on his lap and leaning down to kiss him. “Tell me. I won’t laugh.” 

“There’s this club, right,” Val said slowly. “Well, it’s not really a club. It’s more like a shitty abandoned old building, but it used to be a club. I think it did. It has like a bar and a stage and everything. I think one of the old overlords used to own it but he got iced in an extermination a few years ago and no one wanted to pick it up. Angels trashed the joint and it’s in pretty bad shape.” 

“And?” Vox prompted. 

“And I think it would be cool to do it up and run it. Happy?” Val sighed. “But it aint gonna happen cos’ even you can’t make that much green appear and even if I did buy it I’d have to protect it from everyone else, which is hard, ergo, I aint gonna bust my ass tryin’… why has your face gone weird?” 

“Ssh, I’m looking for something.” Vox’s eyes turned into blank, vacant pools and his body drooped in Val’s hold, a loading circle fixed on his screen. 

“Sparkie?” Val clicked his fingers in front of Vox’s face, jumping when the TV demon jerked and an image of the derelict building he’d just been talking about popped up. 

“This one?” Vox asked cheerfully, his voice disembodied through the speakers now that he didn’t have a face. 

“Yes, fucking hell don’t do that it’s creepy as fuck,” Val snapped, jabbing at the power button on Vox’s screen in the way he’d discovered forced him to reset back to normal when he did things like this out of the blue. 

“Hey! I was looking for something,” Vox whined, his face flickering back onto the screen. “Now I have to start over.” 

“Have fun,” Val patted the side of his screen and eased him off his lap, standing up and brushing down his coat. “I’m going to go set up my boudoir.” 

“Your what?” 

“It’s Spanish, duh,” Val rolled his eyes. “It means sex den.” 

"Right.” Vox rolled his eyes. “Are you going to help bring up the other boxes?” 

“Sweetie, babe, no,” Val shook his head with a laugh. He held up his hand and turned it to show off vivid pink polish on his nails. “Just got these done. You don’t want me to chip these bad boys.” 

“There’s like twenty other boxes in the van, Val!” Vox pointed out with a huff as he watched the moth sashay to the room that he’d already claimed as his during the viewing. It had a floor to ceiling window that overlooked the main street of the Lust district with a sky line view on the horizon of Lucifer’s palace. 

“Wow, you’d better start unloading then,” Val called over his shoulder, blowing a kiss at Vox and closing the bedroom door behind him. 

o0o

Vox hit the power button on the screen and stood up from the chair. He couldn’t delete these memories so why was he torturing himself watching them? 

Moving day had been such a whirlwind. They’d gotten the apartment and spent the next week making it their own. Separate bedrooms had been a necessity when Vox had pointed out he wasn’t sleeping in a room with fuchsia pink walls and zebra print carpet and Val had countered that he didn’t want Vox’s screens lighting up the room all night. 

The TV overlord cracked open a can of coke and leant back in his chair, glancing at the clock on the monitor and sighing. He’d spent the last six hours combing through memory files of the exact guy he’d been trying to forget about. Up ending the can into a glass he took a long slug and wiped the residue from his screen. His hand hovered over the keyboard, itching to bring up something more to torment himself with. 

Instead he roughly pushed the keyboard across the desk, out of reach and slammed the glass down hard enough to splash the contents everywhere. Cursing softly he went to get something to wipe it up before it dried and broke something. As he worked his phone pinged with an alert, the notification he had specially set up for any time Valentino or Angel Dust posted on any of their social medias. 

It wasn’t stalking if the user hadn’t read the small print giving him permission to do this when they signed up for Voxtagram. Honest.

It was Val. Stretched out on a sofa in what looked like the studio wearing barely anything and spreading his legs suggestively. Vox swallowed thickly and ghosted over the heart button under the photo, the minute gesture enough to flash it up red and leave the words ‘Voxtagram_8K loved your post’ tattle tailing on him in black and white. 

“Shit!” With a swipe of his hand he deleted the photo not only from his own feed but from the entirety of the network in Hell. Dramatic, yes, but it meant Valentino didn’t get the satisfaction of knowing he was looking. He switched his phone off so that he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, feeling a physical pang in his chest as he disconnected himself from it to prevent any messages coming through to anything he was linked to. 

He shut everything down with another wave of his hand, the entire room of screens shutting down in the blink of an eye. His powers developing had been a slow burn, lots of research and study. Most demons in Hell got their powers from binding souls to themselves or claiming territory in Hell, the influence over weaker beings feeding them and giving them strength that eventually meant they could rule over an entire sin. Vox had found he was different. Magic didn’t seem to do anything for him and his power came from cold, hard data. Followers, likes, hearts, retweets. Every time someone clicked a button or swiped a screen in Hell he could feel it feeding him. At peak times of day or when a major event was going on he was almost giddy with the flood of power that it gave him. Captive audiences literally making themselves even more captive by flooding him with the means to control them. 

Valentino had never understood his work ethic. When the moth demon had become an overlord he’d stopped trying. As long as he had souls trapped under his hold he was on easy street. Vox had to maintain his power constantly, keeping ahead of the trends and even setting them so that he had a head start on what would cox in the followers the most. 

Sometimes he wondered if he had been stupid to hand Valentino such an easy route to power. The temptation to see if he could spin the same trick he had done with the apartment with the night club that his boyfriend had coveted had been overpowering. The itch to hack and take control had been impossible to ignore so when Val had been out at work one day he’d logged straight on to see what he needed to do to claim the building. 

Stupid, so so stupid. Valentino hadn’t been interested in power until Vox had given it on a golden platter. Circuits and code were easy, being in love was something else entirely, a foreign language that made him do things that were foolish and dangerous. But, Valentino had wanted it and Vox had always been weak to what the lust demon wanted. 

“Mister Vox?” A voice sounded over the intercom. The sound echoed across the whole room from speakers in every corner. 

“What?” Vox snapped, torn from his musings by the interruption.

“A package has arrived at the main desk, shall I send it down for you?” 

“Yeah, whatever.” Vox cut off the call and waited for the elevator to ping. The staff knew not to get in the lift with any of his packages so when the doors opened the box was sitting there proudly in the middle of the cart on its own. 

Striding over he picked up the box and frowned. It was a brand new screen, fresh from Radio Hack. A glance at the postage note told him Valentino had paid for same day delivery and Vox’s lip curled at the idea of a poor delivery imp frantically running across the city on the whim of an overlord just to deliver a TV monitor. 

He ripped open the tape and took out the screen, whistling a low hum at the quality. Val had either done his research or paid someone to do it for him because this was top of the line. 

“Bastard…” he hissed, putting the screen down on the desk and glaring at it. The crack in his current screen from Val still stung- metaphorically and literally- and he did need to replace it but the thought of Valentino thinking that he could just buy his forgiveness yet another time with fancy gadgets was just another kick in the teeth. 

“I’ll install you in the morning,” he said to the inanimate object on the desk. “But only because I have to. Not because I like you or anything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dialing up the whump next chapter, kiddies so get your security blankets ready.


	6. He used to be mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's opening night at Club 666 and Valentino is on top form with his loving boyfriend there to support him. Vox soon learns that sin really does fuel his powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit more drama in this chapter and the angst roller coaster kick starts

The opening to the club was loud, flashy, and a huge reminder to Vox as to exactly why he hated night clubs. He could appreciate the attention to detail in the lighting, and the beating undercurrent to the music, but other than that it was just crowded and impossible to hear anything at all. Give him a night in watching TV or playing video games any day. 

Val, of course, was in his element. Vox watched in amazement as the moth demon threw back drink after drink with no signs of stopping and worked the room like a pro. It was like watching some kind of predator on the prowl the way he slunk between the crowds of demons dancing and having fun. He waltzed from one conversation to the next like a true artist and Vox couldn’t help but admire the skill in it. He’d always thought he was pretty charismatic himself, but watching his boyfriend at work was a big reality check in just how much he was lacking in the socialising department. 

“You enjoying yourself?” Val asked, finally coming over to the table Vox had been at nursing a drink since they had gotten here. It was a booth on the balcony overlooking the dance floor, giving whoever sat there a fantastic view of the stage and everyone down below. Vox couldn’t help but think it was the perfect surveillance spot. 

“Yeah, it’s great,” Vox lied, shouting to be heard over the music. “Everyone seems to be enjoying themselves.” 

“I didn’t know working could be so fun,” Val replied with a short laugh. 

“What?” Vox cupped his ear- or where his ear would be if he still had anyway- and frowned, edging closer so he could hear properly. 

“I said, I didn’t know work could be so fun,” Val repeated, louder this time. He didn’t sit down but instead remained standing so that he could keep watching everyone mingling in the club. “I met some girls earlier,” he told Vox. “I was gonna audition them to be dancers.” 

“Cool!” Vox gave him a thumbs up, only vaguely hearing what Val was saying but hearing the word dancing and assuming it was something about the floor below. 

“You cool if I bring ‘em home tonight to give ‘em a trial run?” 

“Sure, that sounds great,” Vox nodded, still not having a clue what he was saying over the thumping beat and just grinning. Wasn’t that always the trick? Just nod and agree when you couldn’t hear a person. 

“Awesome, you’re really cool, you know that?” Val leant in and kissed the edge of his screen. “See ya later. Going to go mingle some more.” 

“Have fun,” Finally Vox could hear as the song transitioned into another, less pounding one. “I’m going to head off, babe. I want to go to Radio Hack before it closes.” 

Val just waved as he walked away, making his way down the colourful staircase and losing himself once more in the dance floor. Vox rose from his seat and leant over the balcony, watching him for a few moments with a small smile on his screen. He felt a small bubble of jealousy as a skinny cat faced demoness pressed up against Valentino and put her arms around him, but told himself he was just being over protective. Val loved him, just because some girl in a club was dancing with him didn’t mean a thing. 

o0o

After the place that sold 100 different types of cereal, Radio Hack was Vox’s favourite place in Hell. The store was just floor to ceiling electronics and the demon who owned it had his mouth stitched shut so nobody even bothered you whilst you shopped. It was absolute bliss. Vox had been working on waterproofing himself for quite some time ever since trying to do the washing up had resulted in his entire left arm short circuiting and the power in the whole apartment complex going out for six hours. 

He’d read about portable phones that were submergible for a certain period of time so wanted to do something like that to himself as well. Aside from the fact that a phone you could _carry around in your pocket_ was so utterly cool that it made him want to scream he wanted to borrow that waterproofing tech. 

Even though Val had told him he was the only one of his kind that he’d ever seen in Hell, Vox wasn’t a hundred percent certain of that. Radio Hack sure did carry a lot of things that looked human sized and it was hard to imagine that there wasn’t a demand for it. 

With an armful of stuff he went to the counter and set it all down, getting out his credit card and swiping it when the cashier mutely pointed to the total on the till. He started to load the items in to bags for him whilst Vox glanced around at the stuff scattered around the counter for upselling, batteries and tiny little dollar items, that sort of thing. 

“Hey, you ever see anyone else like me?” He asked as he picked the bag up. 

The cashier shook his head, the stitches in his lips straining slightly. He looked like he was thinking about something and held his hand up to signal he’d be a second. Ducking down below the counter he pulled out a business card and pointed at it, then at Vox, tilting his head questioningly. Vox took the card and frowned, reading out load. 

“Robo-Fizzarolli, personal robot companion…” he read, his eye widening at the list underneath the eye-wateringly bright image of a robot jester. “Uh, no not what I meant.” That certainly answered that question, though. He put the business card down on the counter and collected his stuff, making a swift exit before the cashier could show him more unsettling things about sex robots. 

The streets were fairly quiet with all the stores looking like they were ready to close up for the night. Clouds overhead in the blood red sky that covered the lust district looked as if they were threatening to rain which made him think there was all the more reason to get back to the penthouse and start working on himself. He quickened his pace down the street, passing a few demons and imps on the way, but nothing to the same level as it was during the day time. As he side stepped to move out of the way of two demons passing him on their way to the club strip he caught sight of a coat in a shop window.

It was absolutely hideous, bright red with white faux fur trim dotted with hearts and a gold chain acting as a closure on the front. As he squinted at it he saw shiny zebra print poly-satin as the lining and felt a small grin spreading across his face. Valentino would absolutely _love_ it. He hadn’t gotten the moth a good luck present for the opening of the club and this would just be perfect. A quick glance at his watch told him he still had ten minutes before the store closed so he marched in and bought it, instructing the girl on the counter to wrap it up in the brightest coloured paper they had and to put the biggest bow they could on it. 

Carefully cradling the package in his arms he thanked the retail demon and started the trek back to the apartment, he’d gone a little bit out of his way to get to the shopping quarter and the rain drops that had been threatening were starting to pitter patter down now. He popped his collar up to protect his cables a bit more and quickened his pace, sighing with relief as he got into the foyer of the apartment building just as the heavens opened and rain came crashing down in the streets. 

Rearranging his bags on his arms and the wrapped parcel in his hands he nudged the elevator button for the penthouse with his elbow and got out at the top floor. Val would likely still be at the club so he had some time to play around with what he’d just bought and maybe order some food in later for them to share once Val was home. He shook his head at how disgustingly domestic that sounded and wondered when exactly they’d started acting like an old married couple with him as the wife. 

He nudged the door open and was about to put the bags on the kitchen table when the sight in front of him made him stop in his tracks. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled, the bags clattering to the floor with a loud clang as he took in the sight of Valentino sprawled out on the couch with two demonesses crawling all over him. 

“Hey, Voxxy,” Val greeted, sitting up slightly and holding on to the waist of the demoness with black hair and long, curled horns. “Come and join in. This is Dia and Summer, or Summer and Dia… I forget which is which.” 

“I… the fuck?” Vox repeated, the lights flickering overhead a little as he tried to process. 

“I _said_ I was going to audition girls at the apartment, remember?” Val pointed out, lifting the demoness off of his lap and sitting up fully. “You said it was cool.” 

“No I didn’t!” Vox denied. “And if I did I didn’t think you meant this! What the hell kind of audition involves bouncing up and down on your dick in our apartment?” 

“Uh, the second stage of one?” Val pointed out with a shrug. The horned demoness was stroking his chest, looking between him and Vox as the cat girl Vox had spied him dancing with earlier lounged back and scrolled through her phone, looking bored with the whole thing as if this happened to her every day. 

“You are legitimately unbelievable!” Vox shouted, grabbing the brightly coloured gift from the floor and hurling it across the room at Val. “Here, take this. It’ll go well with your tacky girlfriends!” 

“Sparkie, come on,” Val rolled his eyes again, standing up from the couch. “You can have a go too if it bothers you that much. Neither of ‘em mind, right, girls?”

“Doesn’t bother me,” Dia, or was it Summer, said with a grin, stretching out on the sofa and winking at him. “Never had a sexbot before.” 

“I’m not a-“ with a growl of frustration Vox threw his hands up and stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door as hard as he could behind him and practically punching the override button on the elevator to bring the cart right up to their floor. Sparks fizzed around his knuckles were the blow had landed and the entire cart lit up with blue energy as he stepped inside, every button on the panel lighting up and sparking as the cart descended past each floor. 

The doorman sprang out of the way as he passed, bulbs popping as he stalked out into the street. The rain hadn’t stopped and if anything it was worse than it had been when he had come out of it a few minutes ago. Rain water splashed on his screen, sending flickers of interference across his face. With a grim eyed determination he continued on his journey. 

Unbeknownst to him everything he passed sparked and flickered with a blue hue, lighting up his path and illuminating the world around him as he travelled, like a beacon singling him out for everyone to see. Signs in store fronts blinked and flashed in response to his arrival, television sets in gadget shops lighting up with his angry face with some kind of perverse solo parade. 

He could hear car alarms sounding around him, wires ripping out of street lights and dragging themselves along the floor to be close to him. Fuelled completely by anger and jealousy he found himself standing outside Studio 666. 

“Perfect,” he hissed, his voice low and static, devoid of any emotion. 

The automatic doors were thrown off of their hinges as he stepped up towards them, glass and metal shattering around him like a waterfall as he marched up to the front desk. The same receptionist as last time was sitting there, only this time she didn’t question his reason for being here because an electrical cord ripped itself from the wall and acquainted itself with her throat as Vox walked past. 

Straightening his bow tie he wiped the last droplets of rain from his screen and blasted open the doors to the main studio. 

“Show time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Call me old fashioned but I love the idea that being exposed to the sin you're in Hell for fuels you. Like the wrathful get stronger when they're mad, the prideful get stronger when something threatens their dignity. That kind of thing. Jealous boyfriend vibes make Vox feel all fizzy.


	7. Are you sitting comfortably?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vox gives an electrifying performance on the Hell 666 TV floor, but not everyone in Hell is so easily impressed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone on twitter who shared my chapter teasers and commented on how much they enjoy this fic! It's nice to know that Vox and the StaticMoth ship has some fans.

The studio was still packed full despite the lateness of the hour. It appeared that in Hell there was no such thing as clocking off early. As Vox made his way past the reception and into the main studio, scattering imps and runners out of his path with jolts of electricity that quite literally sprang from the walls themselves, he felt a huge grin spread onto his face. 

His target was sitting behind her desk on set, co-host diligently by her side and a petite demon with vivid striped pigtails perched on the guest couch holding a fishbowl that was bigger than her. All three of them stared in horror as he stepped onto the set, the flickering lights of the set suddenly rising to an almost painful brightness. 

“Evening, folks,” He greeted them with a pixelated grin. “Sorry to barge in, your receptionist was a little tied up so couldn’t call ahead.” 

“Just what do you think you’re-“ Katie Killjoy’s angry demand was cut off by one of the camera cables leaping up at Vox’s command to wrap around her throat. She struggled in its grasp as she was dragged out of her seat, hanging high above the desk. Her co-host and guest wisely chose that moment to bail from the set and made a hasty retreat off the stage floor and behind the safety of some of the studio security that had arrived shortly after Vox. 

“Don’t just stand there!” Katie choked, gripping the cable around her neck and fighting to pull it away. 

“Yes, don’t stand there,” Vox smiled as the security team levelled what appeared to be crude Taser guns at him. “It’s very dangerous.” The pitiful little devices exploded in their grip, sending the demons holding them falling to the ground writhing in agony as sparked danced around their bodies. 

Vox clicked his fingers at the shaking imp behind the camera. “You. On me,” he ordered, striding past the mass of cowering crew. He brought the lights down to a more acceptable level and proudly stood on the stage, spreading his arms wide. 

“Good evening!” He waved at the camera. “Sorry for interrupting your usually scheduled broadcast, but as you can see our star is unavailable right now.” The imp intuitively angled the camera onto Katie as Vox signalled to her, zooming in on the cables snaking up around the rest of her body. “Sorry I didn’t prepare more of a speech, I really hope this is working, by the way.” Casually as you like he seated himself on the guest sofa, moving the fish bowl that had been abandoned by the guest onto the floor so he could stretch his legs out like a king observing his court from his day lounge. 

“This message should be transmitting to everything that has a screen,” he continued. “I won’t bore your tiny brains with the details, but rest assured I can see everything now.” He laughed softly, static fizzing over the sound as his eyes danced with a rainbow of colours. “It’s quite a rush, actually! You should feel it.” He tapped either side of his screen, tilting his head as a rush of blue and white shot along the camera cables. He could literally feel every device in Hell that was turned on right now, from phone screens to television sets, laptop computers to calculators. Anything with a screen he could sense the pulse of. It had been a huge gamble, but it had paid off. That surge of power as he’d stepped on set had linked him up so fantastically that he would almost say he felt drunk with it all. 

“I’m not going to do anything with it,” he continued, leaning to look up at Katie and manipulating the bonds holding her to bring her down lower so that she was almost standing on the desk. “Not yet, anyway,” he added with a grin. “I’m just playing now, testing the waters. How am I doing so far, Katie?” 

The trapped TV host glared in response, coughing as the cables loosened to allow her to speak but otherwise keeping quiet. 

“Well, folks, I must be doing a good job for Miss Killjoy here to be speechless!” A laughter track from an invisible audience filtered over the speakers, echoing in the otherwise silent studio. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to be out of a job. I need someone to bring my coffee, after all. You’re lucky. The last overblown prick I did that to during their show didn’t have the privilege of getting up again.” 

With that said he ordered the cables to drop her, flinging her across the studio and into the lighting rig to cause a veritable firework display to explode from the broken bulbs. 

“I’ll let you all get back to your boring afterlives now,” he finished, straightening up on the sofa and picking the bowl up from the floor. “Stay tuned for a whole new host of shows for you to enjoy in the coming weeks. Trust me, you’ll love it.” 

With that said he killed the connection to the camera and everything else in Hell that he’d been linked to, leaving the studio almost pitch dark with the sudden absence of glowing screens. 

Tucking the bowl under his arm he gave a small wave to the still trembling crew and approached the unfortunate guest. Depositing the bowl into her shaking hands he gave a toothy grin and patted her on the head. “Sharks like to live in groups, little girl. You should get your boy a friend.” 

o0o

He only stayed at the studio long enough to make his point stick firmly. A few more light shows in the boardroom firmly cemented his hold on the studio. Still high on adrenaline and the rush from connecting to virtually all of Hell he left the building with a string in his step, humming an old jingle from a commercial for car insurance. 

Now he’d gotten what he wanted he had to admit he was a little bit at a loss what to do next. It felt a waste to go back home when he was riding so high, and besides which he didn’t want to face Val just yet. All the power in Hell likely wouldn’t make him feel strong enough to have _that_ conversation. So, with no destination in mind, he just let his feet lead the way. He was pleased to note that the few bodies out in the street gave him a wide berth, many of them crossing the street to get out of his way. The sparks jittering from his hands and face had long since died down, but the aura of power still lingered. 

Straightening his shoulders he turned down a side street, grinning widely. _Yeah, bitches, you’d better run._

He didn’t recognise this part of the city, the sky was a different colour now, blood red with streaks of black, so he assumed he must have been so lost in his thoughts that he’d crossed districts. With a small hum he glanced around at the buildings that dotted the route he was walking, many of them seemed to be butchers and restaurants, huge slabs of meat dominating the window displays or in some cases mouth wateringly big cakes and confectionary were on show. 

Gluttony? He wondered. Not a sin he felt like he had any experience of. He might be power hungry and have dreams of stardom, but he knew where the line was. Over indulgence was best left to those with no impulse control. 

“Are you lost, little robot?” 

A melodic voice rang out behind him, cheerful and satisfyingly neutral like a host on the radio. 

“Nope,” Vox replied, turning to look at the one who had dared interrupt him after such a well-documented display of his power. He looked the demon up and down, his lip curling at the ragged edged of their red striped coat and the rictus grin spread across his face. Did this guy not own a TV? Didn’t he know who he was interrupting? A crackle of energy grew in his hand, he’d show this dumb fuck not to speak to him like that. 

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the stranger’s grin stretched, if possible, even wider. “Terribly bad form when you are outside of your own district to attack a resident.” 

“Who says this isn’t my district?” Vox snapped. He’d just taken over one part of Hell as easy as you like, he could spare some time for another. 

“My, confident aren’t we?” The demon’s tufted red ears twitched in amusement as he held his hand out to shake. “Name’s Alastor, and you, my electrifying friend?” 

“Vox.” He ignored the offered hand, but let the volts he had been holding flicker out. Something about this demon was putting him on edge. He could feel an itchy static all around him and the buzz from the fading connection back to the studio felt like it was being blocked somehow. “And I’m not your friend.” 

“Pity.” Alastor shrugged lightly, twirling his hand until a microphone on a long staff manifested in his hand. “Well, be that as it may, might I be the first to congratulate you on your little performance? And to offer you a bit of… advice?” 

Vox’s eyes narrowed, watching as Alastor’s shadow stretched out behind him and started to move of its own accord. Whilst the demon stood completely still except for the twirl of his microphone, the shadowy creature beneath him was darting around the ground like an excited hunting dog ready to pounce. The TV demon fought the urge to step away from it, shivering as the shadow crossed over with his own and sent a chill through his whole body. 

“Fascinating,” Alastor continued, feeling around via his shadow. “Not a scrap of flesh on you.” He tilted his head curiously, as if he was observing something that intrigued him greatly but that he didn’t have a hope of understanding. “Truly remarkable. It’s not difficult to see why your light show on the airways was so easy for you.” 

“Yeah, I’m remarkable alright…” Vox nodded, still trying to fathom out the cause of the feeling. Magic had no logic to it, it was completely outside of Vox’s scope of knowledge. Val seemed to be able to do weird shit with his cigarettes sometimes but apart from that the newly dead demon had very little exposure to anything arcane. 

“You should be careful.” Alastor’s shadow crept closer, almost covering Vox’s entirely. The cold intensified to a chill akin to that he’d felt when he’d first woken up dead in the snow drift back in Envy. “Whilst some of the denizens of Hell might be unable to stop you taking over their programmes, there are others of us that do not appreciate our broadcasts being interrupted.” 

Now that Vox looked closer he could see blood around the edges of the ragged hem of Alastor’s coat, and a sticky redness coating the hand that was casually gripping the microphone staff. 

“I have a very… captive audience for my radio show,” Alastor explained calmly, clenching his fist tighter on the staff. Dark, shadowy tendrils seeped from the microphone head and crawled along his arm, lingering over the patches of blood on his clothing. “Stay off my frequency little demon, or I’ll have to extend you an invite that you cannot refuse. You are entertaining, but don’t try and punch above your weight so early in your damnation.” 

A shadow curled out from the ground beneath him, gripping his ankle and giving a sharp tug that would have sent him sprawling to the ground had he not thrown his hand out and braced himself on the wall.

“See you around.” With a flick of his wrist the deer demon disappeared into a pool of shadows, leaving Vox standing dumbfound in the street, staring at the empty space where he had just been. 

“What the…” with a lack of anything more eloquent to say, Vox angrily straightened his suit. The chill had gone, as had the strange shadow entities that had been lapping on his shadow. He held his arm out experimentally and waggled his fingers. All still his. The shadow on the ground beneath him behaved exactly as one would expect. 

He wasn’t scared, of course not, but in a completely unrelated train of thought he decided that this district was beneath his interest and that he had no further cause to be here. 

He had a TV show to plan, after all. That thrilling thought was far more important than dwelling on red headed deer with no concept of boundaries. Shaking out the tension that had mounted in his body during the encounter he turned heel to walk back the way he came, breathing a small sigh of relief as the familiar red sky of Lust loomed over him. He glanced back over the boundary, dwelling a little bit on the shadowy radio host despite his best efforts not to. 

It probably wasn’t important. He’d probably never see the freak again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally got everyone's favourite radio host to visit! As I said in a previous chapter it was always my intention to have Alastor here as I am a hopeless fan of the idea of Vox sort of hero worshiping him for reasons he can't quite understand.


	8. Electric gaslights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Intent on showing Val exactly how mad he is, Vox returns to the apartment. This isn't Val's first rodeo, however, and he knows exactly what to say to make his electric boyfriend shut down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a bit of NSFW in this chapter which is a little racier than my previous ones so I'd say err on the side of caution if you are planning on reading on a work device!
> 
> Content warning for whorephobic thoughts and language from characters which do not represent the views of the author. Sex work is work and sex workers are people.

Although he wasn’t consciously aware of the journey, Vox made it back to the Lust District in half the time it would usually take him to walk such a distance. When he stopped outside the apartment building he finally felt what passed for his heart slow down to normal levels. Who was that strange deer demon? Other than a name and a creepy amount of what looked like voodoo magic he was none the wiser. Apparently if he wanted to become a major player in Hell he needed to know what the competition outside of his backyard was. He keyed in the code to the building and opted for the stairs rather than the elevator, needing time to put his thoughts back in order and close off the desire to think more about Alastor. Valentino was the current problem and as much as he was sure he could deal with two problems at once he didn’t want to- he wanted to give the moth his full attention. 

He was still angry, furious even, but just as with the performance in the TV studio his anger felt more controlled. He was going to hurt the moth demon, that much was certain in his mind, but he was going to be in a sound state of mind when he did so. No one was ever going to accuse him of acting on impulse ever again; that was too human. His stunt at the TV studio had proven to him that care and attention got the best results. 

Cracking his knuckles and summoning up the energy he had felt at the TV studio he unlocked the door and stepped into the apartment, a low hum emitting from his fingertips. 

“Val… come out,” he called, his tone light and friendly. “I just want to talk to you…” 

When Valentino stepped out of his bedroom, leaning against the door frame as if nothing was amiss, he was wearing the coat Vox had bought him. The TV demon faltered a little, the building energy in his palms drifting down towards the ground in long, lazy sparks. 

“Hey, baby, thought you’d gone for good,” Val purred, stretching one arm up the frame and resting the others on his hips. “I missed ya.” 

“Where are those whores?” Vox asked. He wanted to make an example and if they weren’t here then he didn’t quite know what to do. All of his careful planning on the journey here was for nothing if those demonesses weren’t still around. In all his plotting he hadn’t considered that they’d actually have left. 

“Who?” Val asked, cocking his head slightly. “Oh, Dia and whatsername? Yeah they left after your TV show made the apartment go all funky.” He shrugged a little, inspecting the nails on one hand. “Guess they didn’t appreciate it like I did.” 

“You saw that?” Vox asked. Of course he had, what was he saying? All of Hell should have seen it if his calculations had been correct. That broadcast had affected every screen in the nine circles so of course the ridiculously huge wide screen TV they had in the lounge would have picked it up. 

“Yeah, it was pretty cool,” Val purred, finally moving from the doorway and coming over to Vox, lightly brushing his fingers along his arm before settling at his hand. The moth took it in his own and grinned at the heat coming from it. “You’re still running hot, Sparkie,” he noted, squeezing and laughing breathily at the tiny static shock that went into him. “I’ve never seen you like this before.” 

This wasn’t going as he planned at all. Vox pulled his hand out of Val’s grip and folded his arms. “I’m mad at you.” 

“Sure you are,” Val nodded with a grin, closing the gap between them once more and setting his upper hands on the shorter demon’s shoulders. “But you don’t need to be. Those sluts didn’t mean anything. It was just business, baby.” 

“Business isn’t having sex, Val.” 

“Sparkie, we’re in the Lust district, in case you hadn’t noticed. In Hell,” Val laughed, tapping him on the nose and chucking at his incredulous expression. “Everything to do with sex is business down here, don’t you get that?” 

“You should have asked,” Vox said steadily, batting his hand away from his face but this time standing his ground. Valentino would just close the space again even if he moved so why not square off with him. “You shouldn’t have gone behind my back with them.” 

“They don’t matter, Voxxy,” Val sighed, throwing his hands up. “They’re just hookers, not even good ones. Everyone knows it doesn’t count when you’re payin’ em.” 

“You paid them? Sweet Satan, Val!” 

“Well, I was auditioning ‘em and that’s basically the same thing,” Val waved away the comment. “Point is, baby, sweetie, honey, it doesn’t mean nothin’.” His hands drifted down to his waist, pulling him in and pressing his hips against him. “They can’t hold a candle to you, nobody can. You’re my little electric spark, all the whores in Hell couldn’t compare to you.” 

“I know what you’re doing,” Vox said quietly, looking down at the floor and fighting it when Val tried to tilt his screen back up to look at him. 

“I aint doin’ shit except tellin’ you like it is, Voxxy,” Val purred soothingly, stroking the edges of his screen and finally getting him to nervously look up at him, hope flickering in his digital gaze. “Besides, babe, you gave me that club. I’m just running it and making a livin’ for myself like you wanted me to, so we can share everything together. I didn’t want to keep takin’ advantage of you like this… you’ve done so much for me with the apartment and the clothes, I just wanted to find the best girls to make money so I could do those nice things for you too. Don’t you understand?” 

“I…” Vox chewed his lower lip, the red pixelated blood on his screen blinking with the movement as he fought an internal battle over what Val was saying. It made sense. Hadn’t he wanted Val to get a job and make something of himself? There was no denying that even when he’d been poor as a church mouse he’d had that glow around him that made people gravitate towards him. The club was just another vehicle for that. Maybe it was right, whore didn’t count. “I just wish you’d said something.” 

“I didn’t know you’d act like that, baby,” Val sighed. “You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose.” He leant down so that his mouth was next to the speakers edging his screen, his tongue flicking out over the connection there and his voice low and seductive when he next spoke. “You know I love you.” 

Vox’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m sorry I reacted like that,” he whispered. “I just got so angry.” 

“I know, I forgive you.” Val straightened up, smoothing out his coat and oh-so casually letting it fall open, letting slip a teasing glimpse of sheer black stockings hugging his legs attached to a dainty lace garter belt. “I love the coat, by the way.” He twirled a little on the spot, the fur hem billowing slightly and flashing Vox another glimpse of those stocking clad legs. “Think it suits me?” 

“Yeah…” Vox’s mouth hung open, his whole body feeling weak at the sight. “It would look even better on the floor, though.” 

o0o

They didn’t make it to the bedroom. 

Vox pinned Valentino to the floor the second the moth demon let the velvet coat pool at his feet. Vox ran his hands over the tight laced corset, thumbing over the buckles on the front. There were zips too, a whole jungle of complicated fastenings that he couldn’t work out but when his hands went to Val’s panties he was pleased to see those didn’t pose the same kind of challenge. Electricity fired though his hands as he ripped the silken fabric away, shocking Val quite literally with the force of it. 

“Eager?” Val asked, licking his lips. He made to start unfastening the buckles on the corset front as well but Vox seized his wrists. 

“Leave it on,” he ordered with a low growl. “These too,” he clasped his thigh, snapping one of the garter straps against the purple flesh and grinning at the small noise that elicited. “Take my pants off.” 

“Yes, _Sir,_ ” Val grinned, rather liking this assertive side of Vox. It wasn’t going to be allowed to stay around, of course, but he could permit his little TV set a bit of dominance once in a while. He helped the other out of his pinstriped suit pants and drew off his underwear quickly after, taking him in hand and teasing him with long, slow strokes. “What now, Mr Vox?” 

“Lay back,” Vox instructed, pushing Val back down onto the floor on top of his coat, taking in the delicious sight of the moth demon, hard and ready sprawled out like that waiting for him. Lube was always to hand where Valentino was concerned and Vox wasted no time getting the moth slick and ready, coating his length in the substance and positioning himself over his hips. He lowered himself down, gasping at the harsh sensation of being filled this way and eased himself down his length, rocking his hips slowly. 

Cursing breathily he started to ride Val, bracing himself on his chest with his hands and moving up and down with powerful thrusts. 

“Shit, you feel so good like this,” Val gasped, taking hold of his hips and helping him set a pace. This was brand new for him, Vox had never taken initiative like this before when they were together, usually just laying back and letting Val take the lead. Maybe he could get used to a bit of power bottoming from Vox once in a while. 

“You’re damn right I do,” Vox groaned, his hands starting to prickle with electricity. “So… now that I have you where I want you…” he sent a few warning sparks dancing over Val’s chest. “Tell me you’re sorry.” 

Val jumped at the shock to his skin, bucking underneath Val and causing the demon to moan in delight when that caused him to move deeper inside him. He shocked him again and got the same reaction, the moth yelping in pain at the electricity dancing over his body. 

“I can’t hear you,” Vox repeated, moving faster now but also increasing the power flowing through his fingers. He pinched Val roughly, his fingers like jump cables as he delivered another shock. “Tell me you’re sorry.” 

“I did!” Val insisted, gasping at the intensity of the shocks. Vox was pleased to note that despite it all the demon below him showed no signs of stopping his movements inside him so he delivered another. 

“No you didn’t. Say it,” he insisted, his hand making its way to Val’s throat, encircling him like a shock collar and pulsing more of the neon blue energy around him. Val threw his head back and moaned, gripping his hips tightly as he writhed beneath him. 

“Ok, ok!” He gasped, biting back another moan of pained pleasure as Vox continued to build up the intensity around his throat. “I’m sorry I fucked those girls, I- ah!- won’t do it again!” 

“Good,” Vox grinned evilly and delivered one last shock to Val’s neck, finally letting go after it made the demon thrust into him so hard that he thought he might break. He eased up, placing his now completely electric free palms back on his chest, riding him to completion and collapsing in a heap on top of him. 

“Wow… that was… something else,” Val breathed, brushing his antennae back and whistling through his teeth. “When did ya learn to do that?” 

“Just did it,” Vox shrugged, climbing off of him and lay down on the floor next to him. He loosened his tie and pulled it off, flicking open the top few buttons on his shirt. He really should have taken those off too but he’d been far too eager to prove his point. “I mean it,” he said seriously, shuffling closer to Valentino and looping his arm around him. “No more girls in the apartment.” He traced little circles on the fabric of Val’s corset, fingering over the buckles and zips. “But, maybe…” he said slowly, “it might be ok if you do it at the club.” 

Val looked over at him, “Hm? Really?” 

“Yeah. For, like, auditions and stuff,” Vox clarified. “I don’t want you wining and dining prostitutes but… if you have to do it for work then I guess I can’t be too mad.” 

“Nothin’ in the apartment, got it,” Val grinned, giving him a thumbs up and kissing his screen. “You know you’re more important, right? Nobody talks to me like you do and I sure aint ever had anyone electrocute me before.” 

“Probably for the best,” Vox grinned. “I don’t think your brain could handle more than one person talking back to you.” He paused, sitting up on his elbows a bit and looking down at Val. “Did you mean it? What you said earlier?” 

“What did I say?” Val asked curiously, reaching under him to get some cigarettes out of his coat pocket. He lit up two and handed one to Vox. 

“Nothing, just forget it,” Vox sighed, taking a drag and standing up to put his pants back on. “Listen I have to go back to the studio tomorrow to finish some stuff up, why don’t you buy me dinner afterwards?” 

“Sure. What do you want?” 

“My favourite,” Vox grinned wickedly, enjoying the way Val slightly paled at that. 

“And that would be…?” 

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” 

o0o

Apparently board meetings in a TV studio following a hostile takeover took a lot longer than Vox had realised so they ended up rearranging what Vox had teasingly been calling ‘date night’ for another time. Val had similar discoveries about how much time running an up and coming club took up of his time as well, so it was over a week later when they finally sat down together to eat in one of the finest sushi restaurants in the Greed District. 

“This is nice,” Vox hummed, picking up a slice of grilled eel and laughing at Val’s repeated attempts to use chopsticks. “Here, like this,” he reached over and corrected Val’s positioning, guiding him down to pick up a cucumber roll and snickering as he dropped that too. 

“Why can’t ya just use forks?” The moth grumbled, spearing the roll with one chop stick and eating it that way instead. 

“You’ll learn,” Vox smiled, skillfully picking up another slice from the board in front of him. It was a lavish spread, a collection of perfectly grilled seafood on beds of rice along with delicately wrapped vegetable rolls seasoned with a sprinkling of sesame seeds. “It just takes practice.”

“I guess if this is your favourite food we’ll be eating this a lot, huh?” Val fished, spearing another roll. 

“Hm, I do like sushi…” Vox mused, taking a sip of the warm sake they had also ordered. “It reminds me of home and the rolls my mother used to make, plus you can’t deny that it tastes great, but…” he picked up a hand roll brimming with breaded chicken, “it’s not my favourite.” He bit into the roll with a wink. “Better luck next time.” 

Next time was a week later, in a steak house that was famous throughout Hell for their fine cuts of meat. Rumour had it even Lucifer himself dined here. A table was ridiculously expensive, and the waiting list was usually so long that you’d forgotten you’d made the reservation before your name even came up. Vox had really enjoyed watching Valentino bargain over the phone with the owner, offering up a whole host of sinful delights with his girls and boys at the club in exchange for a table for two. 

Sex, it seemed, sold as well in Hell as it did on earth. It had only been a fortnight since the club had opened but already Vox could see the potential. Demons and overlords were sniffing around it constantly and Valentino seemed to have shot to fame virtually overnight. Vox was almost jealous at how easy Val seemed to be making it. Scratch that, he was incredibly jealous, but he couldn’t deny that it was nice to see Val being the one to flash the dollar for a change. He’d not even had to think about hitting up another ATM since the club opening. 

“Bon appétit, Gentlemen,” the waiter laid their steaks on the table and opened a bottle of the most expensive red wine on the menu, pouring a drop into Vox’s glass for him to try first then filling up the rest of the glass when he was given the nod. 

“Filet mignon, medium rare with red wine sauce,” Val told him, toasting glasses with him and watching expectantly as he took a sip. 

“Closer,” Vox nodded with a smile, cutting into the steak and taking a bite. “Much closer.” He allowed his words to settle a little before continuing, cutting off another large bite. “Right animal, wrong presentation. The fries are a good addition though,” he added cryptically. “The wine, yes, lovely and I could drink a whole bottle if you let me, but not quite my go to favourite.” 

Neither, it turned out, was caviar, white truffle pizza or lobster, as Val quizzed him about different dishes as they continued their meal. Vox just smugly kept on eating, making his way through the expensive steak dinner and wine with a shit-eating grin on his face for the entire time. He glanced through the dessert menu and rolled his eyes, handing it over to Val for a look. 

“My favourite dessert isn’t here either, but I do love strawberry so I’ll have the cheesecake.” 

Val paid up the bill when they were finished with a small grumble about not getting his money’s worth and linked arms with Vox as they left. It was a nice warm night in the Greed District but even so Vox kept close. They side stepped a bunch of younger demons carrying take out from a nearby fast food restaurant, causing Val to roll his eyes in disgust. 

“Can’t believe they eat that crap,” he laughed. “It’s hardly even food.” 

“Dunno,” Vox said lightly. “I could really go for a big mac and fries right about now with a strawberry shake.” 

Val halted in his tracks and turned to face Vox, his mouth hanging open. “Are you telling me that I could have won this dumb bet by paying-“ he checked the menu on the window “-$8.98 in a chain restaurant?” 

“Pretty much,” Vox grinned. 

“You are so lucky you’re cute.” 

“I am indeed. Come on, let’s go home,” Vox laughed, hooking his arm back through his. 

It was a lovely scene, walking home from a nice restaurant, laughing good naturedly over a silly joke he’d pulled. It would probably have continued like that for eternity, he often thought, if Angel Dust hadn’t gone and shown up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So to replace "why do they cover your face in the electric chair?" my search history now contains much more neutral gems such as "when were froot loops first sold" and "how much is an XL big mac and fries with a strawberry shake in America" I think the FBI will leave me alone now. 
> 
> If you want to see sneak peaks of chapters a day or two before they are posted follow me on twitter @graysongirl4. I am very upset that three other people seemed to have that username as I hate putting numbers after things! My twitter is purely for Hazbin/Helluva stuff so is all fandom related- you won't have to see boring updates about my IRL persona! To see my cosplay and doll edits follow me on Insta @sewing_kit


	9. Bright lights, big city

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hell's number one porn star enters with a bang and sets his sights firmly on success. Pity that Vox isn't interested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we have some Angel Dust! 
> 
> Once again, a warning for some whorephobic language from Vox. These don't represent my views, they are the opinions of a jealous demon.

“What are you doing?” 

The entirety of the kitchen table had been cleared, leaving it covered by a huge sheet of paper covered in a collection of colourful lines and pins. Vox was bent over it, moving things around and writing things in tiny hand writing all around it, twisting it this way and that to reach every angle. A few feet away, perched on the kitchen worktop next to a now empty coffee maker was an old wireless radio. 

“Working. Leave me alone,” Vox said shortly, frowning a little as he moved something else on the sheet of paper. 

As Valentino leant over it next to him he worked out it was a map. A map of Pentagram City to be exact. Long, straight red lines separated the districts and each little pin had an even smaller flag of paper attached to it with a name on. 

“Looks boring,” Val shrugged, picking up one of the pins and looking at it. “Who’s Belphegor?” 

“Sloth overlord,” Vox explained, still not looking up from the map as he reached out and took the pin from Val. “You’d like him, he drinks Absinthe and eats erotic baked goods. He’s not important.” The pin was carefully replaced on the map, Vox’s hand meticulously straightening it back out. “Now ssh, I’m listening to the radio.” 

“I thought you said the radio was for ugly people?” Val scoffed, sitting down on one of the barstools next to the table and resting his elbows on the edge of the map as he watched Vox work. “What’s that got to do with maps?” 

“I met someone,” The TV demon straightened his back, looking down on the map as a whole. When Val followed his gaze he saw that there was a big cluster of red pins in one of the points of the pentagram. Vox pointed to these as he spoke, placing a small human shaped cut out on the map next to them like a military commander organising a battle. “A radio demon. He owns most of the Gluttony District and, by extension, a lot of the Greed District.” He traced a finger down the red line that divided the two districts. “Then here you have Lust on the other side.” He pointed to a little heart shaped pin stuck to one of the buildings. “That’s you.” 

“Why don’t I get a cute little drawing?” Val interrupted. 

“Pay attention,” Vox chided. “Then there’s Envy.” He moved another person cut out onto the map, this one sporting a square shaped face and a carefully coloured in suit. “Therefore if I take over this area here, it brings me a step closer to here which- if my calculations are correct…” he let his words trail off as a scream erupted from the radio on the counter top. With a satisfied grin, Vox placed another red pin on the map, right on the border line of Lust and Gluttony. “I’ve been following the regions he’s taking over,” he explained animatedly. “Trying to map out where he’s moving next. It’s really quite simple if you pay attention and listen to the things he says. Most of it is just boring old rubbish about jazz music and Broadway puns but in between of all that you can follow his movements.” 

“Who?” 

“The radio demon!” Vox sighed in exasperation. “Did you hear a word of what I just said?” 

“Yeah, sure, you have a hard on for someone who does talk radio and you want to work out how to meet him,” Val shrugged, making the Vox cut out dance along one of the border lines until it was standing next to the crude drawing of Alastor. “It’s cute. Good luck.” 

"No! I just want to claim his territory!” Vox insisted, snatching the figures from Val and putting them back in their proper places on the map. “If I can claim here, here and here then I’m in a really good strategic positon to attack him from both ends.” 

“Just buy him a drink, then he’ll probably let you attack him from whatever end you want,” Val suggested innocently, earning a stern glare from Vox that made him just chuckle in amusement. “Look, this is boring. I’m auditioning some dancers at the club tonight, come and watch that. It’ll clear your head and then you can look at this again later. Sounds like your guy is signing off anyway.” 

Strains of _”We’ll meet again”_ played over a melody of tormented screams dying off in the background. Vox angrily went over to the radio, picking it up and shaking it. 

“Don’t you dare!” He threatened the device. “Tell me where you’re going next!” 

“Ok… when you start talking to the appliances you really need a break, pal,” Valentino gently took the radio out of his hands and turned it off, setting it back down on the counter and pushing it well out of arm’s reach. “Go spray some cologne on, polish up that screen and put on a fresh shirt,” he instructed. “You’re going to help me pick new dancers.” He held his finger up as Vox started to protest. “Dancing only. Scout’s honour.” 

o0o

For once the club wasn’t the bustling hive of activity that it usually was. The bar was closed and most of the chairs were turned up on the tables following the cleaning imps closing down the previous evening. A few chairs were still laid out near the stage, crowded around a small table that Val had positioned two drinks on. The seats gave a perfect view of the stage and a queue of bright eyed demons in all manners of undress waited excitedly. 

This was only the second set of auditions that Valentino had done for the club since opening a few months ago. The dancers he’d picked at the last round were already drumming up interest talking about what a swell place it was to work and how much money they made, so Val had been overwhelmed by applications. 

He’d discarded half of them straight away just based on the headshots they’d sent in. There was no room for imperfections in his club. The rest had either not impressed him enough with the video reels they had sent him or just didn’t have the right kind of attitude. 

That left ten hopeful demons. He had five spaces. 

Vox sat back and nursed his drink as the first demon, a tigress, took to the pole and started to work herself around it. She spun around with impressive speed, doing drops and flips as if she was flying, her tail looping around the pole as well. She was like a ballerina. 

“Nah, go home, sweetheart,” Val told her midway through her dance, lighting up a cigarette and waving her off the stage. He wasn’t giving feedback, if you weren’t good enough you weren’t good enough, that was it. 

It carried on like this, Vox wasn’t sure what Val’s criteria was. He had to admit most of the dancers were amazing and carried themselves like pros and he couldn’t seem to see any of the problems Val seemed to. Still, he wasn’t about to argue. This was Valentino’s world, not his. The moth seemed to know what he was looking for and the club was a raging success already so why question his method?

“Ok, next.” Val snapped his fingers at the line of auditionees as yet another slunk off the stage with their tail- literally- between their legs. “Right, who are you?” 

“Angel Dust.” Vox looked up as a tall, white furred demon sashayed onto the stage, loosely resting against the pole and checking out his long, pink nails as he spoke. 

“Bit cliché, but show me what ya got,” Val prompted, puffing out a small stream of red smoke as he spoke, the red wisps trailing towards the stage. 

Vox watched as the dancer, some kind of spider demon if he wasn’t mistaken, hopped up onto the pole and started to dance. He wore platform stilettos which only served to add more to his impressive height, his long limps wrapping around the polished chrome. Unlike the others who tried to show off how long they could spin and how many tricks they could do, Angel Dust took it slow. He slid down the pole, arching his back and letting his arms lazily stroke down his body, bright pink mismatched eyes never leaving his audience. 

It was pure sex, Vox thought, hungrily watching the spider make love to the stage with his dance moves. He glanced over at Val to see his reaction, finding the moth demon as glued to the stage as he was. The cigarette hung loosely between his fingers, the smoke still trailing up unattended. 

“Val?” Vox reached over to nudge him and was batted away. 

“That’s enough, sugar,” Val told Angel Dust, standing up and making his way over to the stage. Angel crawled along the floor, resting on his knees when he came to the edge where Val stood and practically purring as he looked up at him. “I don’t know where you learnt that shit, but you don’t do it for them no more. You work for me now, understand?” 

“Sure thing, Daddy.” 

And that was that. 

o0o

As the next weeks dragged on you’d have thought that Angel Dust was actually fallen from Heaven the way Valentino talked about him. Vox lost count of the amount of times Val came home from the club raving about some performance Angel had given, or how many tips he’d gotten giving lap dances up in the private rooms. He kept offering Vox the chance to come down and watch and after numerous refusals he eventually caved and accepted, if not just to see what all the hype was about. 

If possible the spider demon was even better than he’d been at the auditions. Demons flocked to the stage to press notes into his garter belt as he danced, all fighting each other for the chance to be at the edge of the tip rail for a chance to brush his silky thighs with their money. 

“Hey, Voxxy, got you a present,” Val told him, bringing Angel Dust over after his set was finished. His hand rested on the spider’s hip, rubbing small circles with his thumb. “Take Angel here upstairs for a spin. You’ve been looking moody all night.” 

“Let me put a smile on that screen, honey,” Angel grinned, leaning over the table to take hold of the lapels of his jacket. He pulled him up to standing and pressed against him, whispering softly in his ear. “Daddy says I gotta be real nice to ya, cos yer special.”

Vox couldn’t deny the demon was attractive, he wasn’t blind. With a look back at Val he shrugged and allowed Angel to take his wrist and lead him upstairs. The rooms were all cosy and intimate, red couches and low lighting with music playing over the speakers. Vox didn’t like the song that was on when they entered the room and changed it with a blink.

“Damn, ya really do got freaky electric powers,” Angel said, impressed. “Hey, I love that game show you present on the network. What’s it called again? Pit of Peril? The one where ya gotta screw over everybody else and there’s that big lava pit that the losers fall in.” 

“That one is popular,” Vox agreed, sitting comfortably on the sofa and watching Angel Dust expectantly. 

“How’d ya make the fake lava look so good?” Angel asked eagerly. “The screamin’ sounds so real!” 

“Yeah, fake lava…” Vox turned up the music with a glance at the speakers. “Shouldn’t you be dancing?” 

“Whatever ya want, sweet cheeks,” Angel winked, starting to move to the music. He did that same intense eye contact that he had done back in the club, making Vox feel uniquely like the dance was only for him. He was unsettling, almost hypnotic. As the spider demon rubbed against him he took a deep, shaking breath, keeping his hands firmly by his side. 

“Ya can touch me if ya want,” Angel whispered. “VIP privileges.” 

“I don’t want to, I have a boyfriend,” Vox said shortly. He might be a murdering death row prisoner, but he was still monogamous. 

“Well, between you and me, ya boyfriend don’t mind,” Angel breathed, running his hands down his chest and fluffing up the fur. “Go on, Valentino does.”   
Vox stood up abruptly, sending the dancer falling onto the floor. “Is that meant to be sexy?” he snapped. “Telling me you touch up my guy? What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Jeez, jack ass, your boyfriend runs a fuckin’ strip club and ya pissy about him gettin’ it on with the dancers?” Angel groaned, standing up and rubbing his hip where he’d landed on it. “He said ya got a deal.” 

“That doesn’t mean I want to hear about it, you fucking slut.” 

“Nice.” Angel folded his arms and eyed Vox up and down. “Lemme guess, ya aint from around here are ya? Geez I can smell the green on ya a mile off and I don’t mean the cash roll ya got in your jacket, neither. Get over yourself, it’s a fucking lap dance I aint proposin’ or nothin’. If I passed up every john that had a boyfriend back home I’d be on my ass on the street. Ya wanna be mad at someone? Be mad at the player, don’t hate the game, sister.” 

“Fuck you,” Vox wrenched open the door to the dance room, the music cutting off and leaving them both in silence. “Touch my guy without my say so again and you’ll be worrying about more than just not earning a living.” 

“Lookin’ forward to it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pit of Peril" is actually based off a real game show for kids in the UK from about a decade ago called "Den of Doom" it was hosted by two hyena puppets and every time you got a question correct you could move an opponent one step closer to the pit of lava until they eventually fell in. Youtube it, it's hilarious 
> 
> Note, as this is primarily a Vox story there won't be much of Val and Angel's relationship "on screen", it will more deal with Vox's reaction to it. Angel is a lot more savvy in this fic than in my other Valdust work ("Guardian Angel") so expect him to be a bit more self aware when he shows up, he's been dead nearly 15 years at this point rather than newly dead!


	10. It's only the tango you love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Val continues his pursuit of Angel Dust, Vox has his eyes set on a much bigger prize.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't quite a "song fic" but if you want you can play the song that Alastor is playing over the fight with him and Vox as you read it!

There were a lot of things that annoyed Vox about Angel Dust.

For starters his fur seemed to clog up every drain he went near. This meant that every time Vox wanted to use the bathroom he had to fight a mass of damp spider fluff in the sink just to wash his hands. In addition to this, the witches brew of bathing soaps and lotions he used made the whole apartment smell like a sorority house during rush week. 

The most annoying thing, though? He always seemed to be there. 

Vox was starting to question if the spider dancer even had his own apartment, even though he must have somewhere to go because he left every night, but otherwise he was frustratingly present most of the time. In one of the rare moments of Angel-free time Vox confronted Val about it. 

“He’s really fucking annoying,” he said bluntly, when the moth demon asked why it was such a problem. “It’s like he thinks you’re dating him or something.” 

“That might sort of be my fault,” Val admitted, pouring a drink for Vox in preparation for a fight and placing the large measure of the murky coloured spirit in his hand. “You see, I found out how soul contracts work…” 

“Oh, Satan below,” Vox sighed, suddenly very glad of the drink and using a large swig of it to calm his mounting annoyance. “Really? That fluffy little stick insect?” 

“He’s a good earner!” Val insisted. “People pay good money for his time and he’s a natural at the work- even you have to admit that.” 

Vox said nothing, topping his drink up and fixing Val with a steady glare. “I suppose you’re going to tell me I can’t be mad because I told you to go out there and earn your own power?” 

“See, I knew you’d get it,” Valentino grinned, making a safe gap between them. Vox appreciated how nervous he was, it was quite a compliment. 

“And owning his soul makes you stronger?” Vox confirmed slowly, swirling the liquid in his glass and eyeing his reflection in it. “All the sin he entices people into feeds you?” 

“Putting it very basically, yes,” Val nodded, studying Vox’s expression and trying to read the very impassive look in his eyes. Vox was getting better at controlling what flashed up on his screen. Val remembered when he had first fallen it was like reading an open book every time a thought crossed the other overlord’s mind. Now it was rather unsettling just how neutral he could keep that digitized face. 

“I reserve the right to still dislike him incredibly,” Vox informed him, still not letting his cards show in the slightest. “You might have noticed I’m very possessive of things I like. Don’t enjoy owning his soul too much, if you get my drift.” 

“Voxxy, babe, you know you’re my number one,” Val grinned, relaxing a little as a small hint of a smile started to creep across the TV demon’s face. Vox’s jealousy didn’t just make him a stronger overlord, it was also like catnip for a demon like Val. The borderline murderous rage he could feel coming off of Vox whenever Angel Dust spent too much time around him almost made Val wonder if Vox should have fallen to the Wrath Wastelands instead of Envy. It was incredibly sexy knowing the other overlord was that possessive of his affections. 

“Hm, show me,” Vox murmured, putting the glass down on the table and putting his arms around Val, the reds of his eyes fading to the duller tone that Val had started to interpret as the other’s bedroom look. 

“With pleasure,” Vox purred, starting to tangle his fingers in the mass of cables behind the screen and drawing Vox in close to him. “Let me show you just how important you are…” 

“Hey, Daddy!” 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Vox’s eyes narrowed back to their usual gleaming red as he angrily turned to glare at the intruder. “Don’t you have an alleyway to be on your knees in?” 

“Babe, not at 2 o’clock on a Tuesday!” Angel Dust laughed, sweeping past them both and making himself comfortable on the sofa. He propped his feet up on the coffee table, making Vox flinch at the fact he hadn’t taken his shoes off first. Yet another annoying quirk to add to the veritable novel of faults he could find with the lust demon. 

“You know what, I have somewhere to be.” Vox untangled himself from Valentino, brushing the moth’s hands away from their rather distracting position still teasing the cables of his neck. He could feel that familiar bubbling in his stomach that generally always seemed to manifest when Angel was in Val’s presence. It was the feeling that often made the electrics in the building short out.   
“It’s just business, Sparkie,” Val whispered in his ear before he pulled away. “Don’t stay away too long.” 

“Business,” Vox repeated firmly. “I’ll be back later.” 

o0o

“My name’s Angel Dust! I eat cock for breakfast and don’t know what personal space is!” Vox angrily kicked the snow under his feet that layered over the ground in the Envy District. “I have too many stupid dumb arms and no nasal septum!” 

He fired an arc of electricity at a passing imp who dared to look at him funny as he continued with his rant against the porn star. A nice feeling of relaxation washed over him as he sent the short red creature sailing into a billboard with Angel’s face on it, shattering his perfect pretty face as the imp smashed through it. That felt good, it got right to the source of the pain. 

He’d been listening to the radio on his walk. Alastor had warned him against hijacking his frequencies but he hadn’t said anything about listening in on them. He had been a perfect gentleman and just listened, no interfering of any sort no matter how tempted he’d been. Alastor had made some cryptic comment about it being ‘nippy’ out at the moment and played an old Frankie Laine song called ‘Jalousie’ in his most recent broadcast which lead Vox to conclude he could only be in one possible location. 

The map he had made up on the kitchen table was all digitally committed to memory, every single pin and possible path of attack marked out on it. As he padded through the snow he could hear strains of music playing. 

Perfect. He was so ready for a fight. 

With a wide grin slashed across his face he announced his presence by turning up the wattage on all the surrounding street lights until they lit up the white snow with an almost painful glow. 

“How lovely, I do love a spotlight,” Alastor grinned, not seeming unsettled or even surprised by his arrival at all. His microphone was clutched in one hand, swirls of shadows pooling at his feet as he broadcast his words to the entirety of Hell to listen to. He wasn’t as demanding as Vox, it was usually completely voluntary for people to listen to him, but once in a while the temptation to make everyone tune in to him was one he couldn’t resist. 

“Dear listeners, it seems we have an unexpected guest on our show,” Alastor announced, spreading his arms to an invisible audience. “Say hello to the listeners at home, Vox.” His smile was gleaming and sharp, his viciously pointed teeth bared in a hungry grin. 

“Glad you could all tune in,” Vox replied sportingly, playing along with Alastor’s little performance fantasy. “Not my favourite medium, but I don’t mind how I show everyone I can beat you.” 

“Such pluck!” Alastor congratulated him. “It’s so refreshing to see the youngsters of today unafraid to get stuck in.” He twirled the microphone in his hand, slowly gathering speed until a swirling vortex of jet black shadows formed around it, primed and ready to fire. “Shall we on?” He aimed the staff at Vox, catapulting the black mass at the TV demon who threw up a shield of pure white static to drown out the blackness coming towards him. 

The shadows hissed at the assault, not disappearing entirely but falling back at the harshness of the light. “Not your time of day, is it?” Vox hissed, bringing up the lights of the street lamps even more. “Come on, radio star. Come into the light.” 

“With pleasure.” Alastor’s arms extended wider, pools of shadow gathering at his finger tips and growing into thick, black tentacles. The creatures slithered up the posts of the street lamps, jabbing and punching at the bulbs and sending the glass raining down. Vox covered his head instinctively, growling in anger at his way of snuffing out Alastor being so easily taken away. No matter, he had other things he could do. 

Blue energy crackled at his fingers, webs of electric fizzing menacingly as he got closer. He’d worked this out a long time ago, the radio demon was definitely the type who favoured ranged attacks. He was useless if anyone ever tried to go hand to hand with him. Vox was by no means a brawler, but he’d had a long year in prison that had equipped him with just enough of a good right hook to get someone off his back. 

He aimed his sparking fist at Alastor’s face, slipping on the ice and inadvertently adding more power to the hit as he ploughed into the other demon. Alastor let out a screech of static at the contact, flinging himself backwards into the snow to avoid Vox landing on top of him completely as the other fell to the ground too. 

Vox’s hands ran over the snow covered ground. He could sense the electrics beneath the earth, a low rumble of power that fed the whole district. As he focused on the floor a low pulse glowed on the ground as gleaming lines appeared, mapping out all the powerlines that rested beneath the snow and concrete. He focused his power, sending out his strength to the mass of cables and fighting a sudden gasp as some of them literally ripped out of the ground. 

“Not the only one who can do the fighty grabby tentacle trick, are you?” He cackled, grabbing the radio demon by the wrists with the flailing wires and hoisting him up from the snow. He held him up in the air by his arms, experimenting with just how much he could do here. In the studio it had been easier, the cables had been visible to him, now he was working almost blindly, having to sense where the cables ran in order to control them. The glow had faded shortly after he’d found them, too much focus needed to keep them so comfortably on show. 

He pulled his hands apart, spreading his arms wide and laughing as the rope like wires responded to his movements and pulled the radio demon’s limbs painfully wide as well. 

“Still listening everyone?” He shouted, rolling his eyes as he noticed that he couldn’t feel Alastor’s frequency transmitting to the underworld anymore. “Aw, you little coward. Scared to let people hear you fail? Guess this is just between you and me then.” 

He walked slowly through the snow towards him, feeling the flakes falling from the sky leaving droplets on his screen that melted instantly as they touched him. “This is my world,” he taunted, gesturing to the white paradise around them. “It’s cold and it’s harsh and it’s mine.” 

“Trying to impress your harlot lover with how much territory you can claim for him to build his sex dens on?” Alastor sneered, pulling against the bonds that held him. “How petty. I’m sure he’s very impressed. He's probably waiting eagerly for you to crawl back to him to beg him for attention.” His eyes narrowed with scorn. “You’re so disgustingly transparent, Vox.” 

“Shut up!” Vox fired a shock through the wires holding him, clenching his fists when the radio demon just laughed over the buzz of the charge firing into him. 

“Touched a nerve, have I?” Alastor grinned, his eyes burning with malicious glee. Smoke was rising from the fabric of his coat but he seemed unperturbed. That shock should have knocked him out cold but here he was just laughing. Vox tried to shock him again, yelling in frustration when it yielded the exact same result. 

“You know what?” Alastor continued, radio dials appearing in his eyes as the snow beneath him slowly turned black. “Have this territory. It’s much too cold for my liking. I retract my claim, it’s all yours.” 

With that said, everything around them blacked out for several seconds and when the darkness cleared Vox found himself standing alone, surrounded by empty white snow and the last few notes of a melody playing around him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like writing Al and Vox fighting with each other!


	11. I walk alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It all starts to heat up now as the splinter in Valentino and Vox's relationship digs itself deeper and literal cracks begin to show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains physical abuse between partners towards the end, discretion advised if this affects you in any way.

Vox stamped his foot in the snow in anger at Alastor’s abrupt exit. The cables that had been holding him suspended dropped down into the ice, landing with a soft hiss as the heat melted a pool around them. He tried to lock back onto Alastor’s frequency again to see if he’d started broadcasting after pulling his disappearing act but he had no such luck. The radio demon had signed off for the day. 

Kicking up a flurry of snow, the TV demon folded his arms to protect himself from the chill. Alastor giving up this territory had given him a warm glow inside, signalling to him that this place was well and truly his, but it felt like a hollow victory considering the deer demon had just handed it to him as an afterthought. This patch of snow was hardly worth owning, he thought. The ground was uneven and cracked from where he’d ripped up the cables and it was so open to the elements that anything you tried to build here would need to have crazy strong foundations to protect it from the harsh winds that Envy was prone to. 

Alastor had wanted it, though, so by virtue of that Vox had wanted it too. With a small chuckle he realised that if that wasn’t a text book definition of jealousy he didn’t know what was. 

He took a few careful steps along the icy path, more tentative now that he wasn’t running around guns blazing with zero care in the world. Once he moved away from the bit he had ripped up the ground wasn’t actually that bad, he came to notice. Sunk down well enough he could raise a pretty decent tower here if he planned it out carefully. Crouching down and resting his hand in the snow he could feel the pulse of the power lines underneath the surface. This area would actually have been much better to fight in, he could feel a powerful ebb from something beneath the ground here and he felt a huge surge in his chest when he tapped into it. 

“Whoa…” he breathed, retracting his hand. A slow grin spread onto his face. This place was a hidden gold mine, like a beating heart of power. He could reach all of Hell from here with much less effort than it took in the TV studio. He straightened up, brushing some stray flakes from his suit. He had to go to the Welcome Centre again. Surely that place would be brimming with newly dead sinners that he could tap for unpaid labour to build the broadcasting tower that was rapidly being planned out in his mind. 

o0o

He hadn’t been wrong. 

“Y-Yes, Overlord Vox, we can certainly do that,” the imp behind the desk was nodding frantically. It was the same imp that almost a year ago had tried to tell him to be quiet and get back in line. It was nice to see the tables had turned a little since then. 

Resting his hands on the desk and towering over the small, red creature Vox grinned viciously. 

“Perfect,” he smiled. “I expect it done in a week, your little brats can sort that out for me, can’t they?” 

“A w-week?” The imp stammered. “But, Overlord, we would need to dig deep into the ground to ensure the foundations for such a structure were strong enough to withstand the-“ 

“Five days,” Vox decided. “You can explain to your sinners where the other two days went if you like. Argue with me again and I’ll drop it to 24 hours. Just tell every sinner working on it that the guy in front of them is doing a better job than them and they’ll be done in no time.” He patted the imp on the cheek, smirking as he shirked away from his touch. “There’s a good little overseer.”

“But, Overlord-“ 

“Don’t. Argue.” The bulb overhead glowed threateningly. The imp’s eyes travelled up to it, resting once again on Vox as he gave a low swallow. 

“Yes, Overlord Vox,” he nodded. “Five days should be more than enough time. You are very gracious.” 

“I know,” Vox sighed dramatically, rolling up the plans that he’d drawn up in front of the imp and rapping him on the head with it. It bounced pleasantly on his horns and when he dropped it the rolled up paper was almost taller than the imp was. 

“I love your show,” the imp squeaked from under the roll of paper. “Me and my wife, I mean. Pit of Peril, we watch it every Saturday. Really funny with the fake lava.” 

“Yeah? You’re a fan?” Vox grinned, looking over his shoulder as he went to leave. “Well, make sure you get my broadcasting tower finished on time or you’ll get to see first-hand just how that ‘fake lava’ gets made.”

o0o

Vox left the so-called Welcome Centre with a spring in his step, humming to himself as he made his way back to the penthouse. He flicked through his phone as he walked, answering a few work emails and once again marvelling that Hell was light years ahead of the surface world with their strange combination of magic and technology. 

He was so busy staring at his phone when he stepped out of the elevator that he didn’t register who was walking towards him until the fluffy spider demon literally walked right into him. 

“Watch where ya goin’, short stop,” the spider hissed, rubbing his hand over his eyes as he stepped around him. 

“What crawled up your ass and died?” Vox snapped, grabbing one of his arms and turning him to face him. He squinted, looking up at Angel Dust’s face. “Are you crying?” 

“Ya fella’s a real dick, ya know that?” Angel pulled his arm out of Vox’s grip and stormed into the elevator, pinging the doors closed before Vox could ask him anymore questions. Well, that was certainly out of character. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the fluffy airhead show any emotion other than horny.

“o…k…” Vox frowned as the doors shut, wondering what on earth had happened to make Angel Dust do a complete 180 from being all over Valentino to suddenly denouncing him like that. Curious, he went into the apartment and found Val sitting on the couch pouring over a contract on the table. 

“Hey, your boy toy seemed pretty upset out there?” He commented questioningly, perching on the edge of the sofa to peer down at the contract on the table. He could see Valentino’s loopy handwriting filling the page with Angel Dust’s equally elaborate signature at the bottom. “I guess you got what you wanted then,” he mused, reaching over to take it so he could read it in more detail. 

He’d known the moth was planning this, which was why he was surprised when Valentino reached over a snatched it out of his hands. 

“Hey, what gives?” Vox snapped. “I just wanted a look! Geez.” 

“It’s private, Voxxy. Keep your hands to yourself,” Val told him rolling up the contract and sealing it by pressing his thumb against the edge. Where the pad of his thumb rested a bright red seal like a heart appeared, locking the contract officially. No one else would be able to break that seal except him, Vox had done numerous contracts very similar to this at the TV studio. 

“I don’t get why you’re being so possessive of it, that’s all,” Vox huffed, folding his arms and glaring at the rolled up piece of parchment that seemed to be taunting him just by being there. Valentino had Angel’s soul now; that had been his goal all along so why was he being so protective of it? Soul contracts were hardly anything unique. 

“I just don’t want it to get damaged,” Val told him, standing up and going over to a large chest of drawers. He ran the tip of his nail along the edge of one of the drawers, a trail of red smoke hissing along the place he touched. The sound of a lock clicking could be heard and Valentino put the contract in the drawer, sealing it in the same way he opened it. 

“What’s that?” Vox asked sharply. 

“Just a drawer, take a chill pill,” Val shrugged. “It’s no big deal.” 

“It is a big deal if you have locked drawers in our apartment that I don’t know about,” Vox insisted, feeling a sour sensation start to bubble in his stomach. “Got any more safe boxes I should know about?” 

“Yeah, actually, not that it’s anything to do with you.” Val sauntered past him on route to the bar area they had set up, making a careful consideration over all the bottles lined up there. He picked up a coloured bottle and poured it into a glass. “Want one?” 

“No,” Vox huffed, folding his arms tighter. “I’m not thirsty.” 

“Suit yourself,” Val added another measure from a different bottle, experimenting with some wild cocktail concoction that he was thinking up on the fly. 

“I just think it’s funny that-“ 

“Oh, Satan below, here we go again.” 

“What?” Vox insisted, standing up and glaring at Valentino as he calmly screwed the cap back onto the bottle and placed it back onto the bar. “Here we go _what_ again?” 

“You. Being a jealous bitch,” Val told him with a roll of his eyes, taking an easy sip of the drink and humming contently. It was a good mix, nice quality liquor with just the right amount of buzz to it. “News flash, battery brain, I’m a hot commodity. You want to be with me, then ya gotta accept that I’m not a one demon guy.” 

“That’s not what we talked about,” Vox hissed. His fingertips crackled as the bubble of jealousy rose up inside him, but he pushed it back down, the buzz around his hands dying away. He needed to talk about this calmly and rationally, nothing was going to get done if he started throwing electricity around. “The club is fine, that’s work and you need to get the souls, I know that. It’s just like me at the studio. But we _said_ you weren’t going to carry on in here. This is _our_ space.” 

“Geez, what does it even matter?” Val sighed in exasperation. “A bed is a bed, a couch is a couch. Who gives a flying fuck where it is?” 

“I do!” Vox shouted. “I care! Ok? I care where you fuck around with whores like Angel Dust.” 

“He’s just a dumb bitch that makes me money, get that through your flat skull,” Val told him, his voice dangerously low compared to Vox’s raised tones. “Yeah, sure, I like the way he looks and I aint gonna lie, he’s a fucking demon in the bedroom so you bet your ass I’m gonna tap that when I can.” 

“This is a waste of time,” Vox threw his hands up and turned to leave. “Have fun screwing hookers, we’re done.” 

He didn’t have time to react as the glass came smashing into the back of his head, Val rocketing across the room to grab his shoulder and forcibly turn him around, pushing him up against the door. 

“You don’t get to just leave,” Valentino hissed, his hand slipping up to the cables of Vox’s throat and tightening his grip there. “You can’t just walk away from me. I’m the goddamn Overlord of Lust.” 

Vox sent a spark hissing around Val’s grip, causing the moth to flinch and loosen his hold, allowing Vox the opportunity to pull himself away. He planted his hands on Val’s chest and forced him backwards. Apparently calm and rational was out of the window and throwing electricity around was the best course of action after all. 

“Yeah? And I’m the damn media demon,” he drawled, rubbing his throat where Val had held him. “Now we’re done throwing titles around the place I’m going to take my leave. Don’t follow me, you over sexed stick insect.” 

The punch that came flying at him cracked his screen down the middle, sparks jutting from the breakage as one of his eyes went completely blank. 

“Fine! Go! See if I care,” Val seethed, rubbing his knuckles where the glass splintering from the screen had embedded itself there. “I don’t need you.” 

“I don’t need you either.” Holding one hand up to his face to contain the crack, Vox pushed the door open and slammed it behind him, storming into the elevator and practically punching the ground floor button. Angel Dust was right, his boyfriend was a real dick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a time jump back to the 'present day' where our story sadly must draw to a close. Stay tuned, campers.


	12. Now I'm stuck in his melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Officially broken up, Vox sets his sights on completing the biggest structure Hell has ever seen. It's a pity that he can't keep away from his moth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! Get ready for terrible decisions all coming to a rousing conclusion here. 
> 
> We time skip back to the "present day" in the last section.

If the imp overseeing the creation of the soon to be unrivalled Network Tower was surprised by Vox returning to the site not one hour after he’d left he didn’t let it show on his face. He watched in fear as the digital overlord stormed past him in a hiss of buzzing static that seemed to seep out of the ground and walls around him. Vox wasn’t hiding the crack running down half of his screen, daring anyone to comment on it as he barked out orders for the sinners and imps to work faster. 

“Change of plans, freaks,” he spat. “I want this tower touching the sky as soon as inhumanly possible. Got it? No breaks. No stopping. Get it done or there’ll be Hell to pay.” 

The hurried mutterings of “yes, Overlord,” and “of course, Overlord,” failed to bring a smile to his cracked screen as he watched them all practically falling over themselves to follow his orders. Valentino thought he didn’t need him, huh? He’d show him. With the plans he’d drawn out this tower should give him access to every square inch of Hell at the push of a button. No one would be able to hide from his watchful gaze and that stupid pimped up moth would come crawling back to him for scraps once he saw just how much control he had over this pathetic underworld. His seedy strip clubs and porn studios didn’t stand a chance against him. 

Yeah. That was right. 

There were plenty of buildings going free in the Envy District, but that didn’t mean any of them were palatable to Vox’s needs. He’d become accustomed to a certain standard of living over in the Lust District and Lucifer be damned if he was going to squat out in a freezing cold shack until his tower was ready. 

He had enough of a name for himself down here that all it took was a whisper in the right ear and he was set with perfectly acceptable accommodation in the district. The unlucky souls condemned to this freezing cold pit worked tirelessly to make his vision come alive and half way through the fourth day of building the overseer imp came to tell him that Network Tower was ready for his approval. He’d always told himself he deserved greatness, but the completed tower was beyond his wildest dreams. A technological haven built to the highest of specifications with enough juice running through it that he could command total control of every media outlet in Hell from the comfort of his office. 

As he seated himself in the leather back chair that sat surrounded by screens on all sides he finally allowed himself to smile. He had everything he needed right here. With a swipe of his hand- more for theatrics than actual necessity- the screens lit up around him, bright colours dancing on them as one by one they lit up with a view of every district in Pentagram City right from the wastelands to the palace walls. He had to admit defeat on the topic of getting cameras past the gates of Lucifer’s palace, but for now he could content himself with seeing just the outside. He had eternity, after all, and he was sure that given enough time he could eventually find a way to spy on the royal family just was easily as he could every other demon in this pit. 

The screen that directly faced him was positioned on the Hell 666 club. Sheer coincidence that it happened to be the one facing him, of course. It wasn’t like he’d purposefully brought up the image of the club on the biggest screen in the room. Still, whilst it was in his immediate view it would be foolish to not take a closer look in the interests of security. 

The view zoomed in and moved in time with his thoughts, everything linked up directly to him so that he didn’t need to lift a hand if he didn’t want to. The response was so immediate that it almost felt like he was standing right there looking around with his own eyes which, when he thought about it, the cameras positioned all around Hell were. He started to frown when he saw Valentino leaving the club, one arm around a tall demon with shocking pink skin and a monochrome dress that barely covered her chest. 

“Who’s that skank?” He murmured to himself, stopping the live feed so that the image froze on the face of the demoness. Dark sunglasses covered her eyes but he could see the way she was looking at Valentino all the same. By the time he started the video live streaming again they had already gotten quite a distance from the club. 

“Amazed she can walk in those stupid shoes,” He hissed petulantly, saving the image of her for later. Fuelled by yet another target for his envious gaze he punched the intercom on the way past as he made his way to the door. “Imp! Bring a car around. We’re going to the Lust District.” 

o0o

He preferred to drive himself, he always had done. The downside of that was that he couldn’t have a proper conversation so out of pure necessity he allowed the imp to be his personal driver for this outing. He didn’t trust that the short creature could even reach the pedals safely, let alone see over the dashboard but as the car glided through the streets of pentagram city he made himself stop thinking about it, putting his trust in the red skinned underling. 

“Here,” he ordered, signalling to the imp when they got to the street that he had correctly worked out that Valentino should be currently on. For the millionth time that journey he told himself it wasn’t stalking as the car pulled to a stop alongside Valentino and the pink skinned succubus. 

He rolled the window down and schooled his screen into something laid back. “Need a lift?” He asked casually. Val leant forward and rested his elbows on the edge of the window, peering into the car and grinning wide. 

“Sure thing, handsome,” he purred. “Room for two?” 

“Hardly,” Vox scoffed, glancing around at the expansive interior that could likely seat at least ten other demons. 

“Take a hike, Verosika,” Val said dismissively over his shoulder, gesturing with a flick of his wrist that he was done with her now. 

“Who was that?” Vox asked, the air of casual indifference still lacing his words even as a tell-tale scowl worked its way onto his screen. 

“Just some imp sucking wannabe popstar,” Val shrugged. “Desperate for anything under 4 feet tall.” 

“What was she doing with you then?” Vox found himself laughing despite himself as he took in Val stretching out on the seat. His legs alone were probably about four feet long if Vox cared to think about it. 

“Told her I could get her a record deal,” Val snickered. “Wanted to see if it worked getting her into bed or not.” 

“At least you’re honest.” 

“You’re still mad at me aren’t you?” Val sighed, resting one arm on the back of the seat and rolling his eyes. “Get over yourself. You fixed your screen didn’t you?” 

“That’s not the point,” Vox told him, looking out of the window next to him instead of focusing on Val. The imp took his cue to start driving again, no real destination in mind so just driving the streets at random as the two over lords sat in silence for several blocks. 

“I miss you.” Valentino was the first to break the silence, reaching into the cooler between the seats and talking out a bottle of fizz along with two glasses. He started to pour, looking at the box of Vox’s head for a reaction. “The apartment is really quiet without your annoying screens humming all the time.” 

“I’m surprised the sound of bitches in heat doesn’t hide the silence,” Vox told him cattily. He looked over his shoulder, eyes resting on the freshly poured glasses. He declined, staring down at the bubbles rising and popping against the glass. Valentino took this as a wordless invite to drink if he wanted to and took a delicate sip. 

“I told ya, whores don’t count, Sparkie.” Val picked up the second glass, using one of his lower hands to take hold of Vox’s wrist so that he could turn his hand and force the glass into it. “They’re just vacant fuck toys. I can actually have a conversation with you.” 

“And Angel Dust?” Vox asked, rubbing his thumb along the stem of the glass, the rubber of his finger tip squeaking along it. 

“The vacantest of them all,” Val smirked. “If he had an independent thought his brain might explode.” 

Vox laughed properly at that one. Something about hearing Val insult the fluffy spider dancer was reassuring, a balm to his overly jealous mind. He took a long, steadying breath, looking back out of the window and continuing to toy with the glass in his hand. “We don’t work well together,” he said quietly. “Do we?” 

“What are you talking about?” Val barked out a laugh. “We work perfectly together. It’s living together we can’t do.” 

“Then what’s even the point?” Vox sighed in exasperation, tearing his gaze away from the skyline. He felt pathetic, harping on at a completely useless point. Val, for his part, seemed perfectly content to keep sipping the top brand fizz and lounging on the seat of the limo as if he was in the club watching a show. So relaxed, so confident. 

“Sparkie, ya keep thinking about this with the heteronormative world view of someone stuck in the suburbs,” Val explained patiently. “Who cares if we can’t live together in blissful harmony? We fight cos’ we’re fucking passionate. Who cares if we can’t live in the same building without killing each other? I actually like having my own space and not tripping over your techno crap.” 

“It is nice not living somewhere with all your tacky animal print,” Vox confessed quietly. 

“Exactly,” Val clicked his fingers to emphasise his point. “So we live apart. It doesn’t change the fact I think you’re hot shit.” 

“I guess you’re not half bad yourself.”  
“To unconventional relationship models,” Val raised his glass in a toast. 

“And to taking over Hell district by district,” Vox countered, clinking his glass against his. 

o0o

Fifteen months, three weeks and two days. 

That was how long their relationship had lasted the second time they took a stab at it. After that it had been a year and one week, breaking up again during what was supposed to be a belated anniversary dinner. After that they fell into a comfortable routine of getting just shy of another year together before something got in the way and caused them to have yet another spectacularly over the top falling out over one of them saying the wrong thing or looking the wrong way. 

Like Valentino said, maybe they were just too passionate. Maybe they just shouldn’t be together, Vox often thought. Those ideas never lingered long. Valentino was like a drug that he needed to have in his system at all costs, no matter what havoc it wreaked on his mind and body. He might not have signed his life away on a contract but he knew Val had his soul all neatly packaged up and held on to tightly. 

It was ok, though. He had Valentino’s soul captured in very much the same way. Val loved the limelight and the drama too much to ever stay away from him for long. They’d stopped keeping score on who crawled back to who after break up number, oh what was it now, twenty seven? Forty? Who cared? 

True to his previous resolve, Vox hadn’t turned any of his devices on for the rest of the night, going cold turkey from all social media and any temptations. Like clockwork, though, when he woke up the next morning his phone was turned on and firmly glued to his hand. You couldn’t just quit social media, you stopped existing if you stayed offline for too long. 

His thumb loaded up Valentino’s profile on the screen by sheer force of habit. The video started to auto play, a badly firmed karaoke segment of him belting out Disney lyrics in one of the many bars in Hell that offered such things. Karaoke was big business in Hell, all those drunken fools embarrassing themselves in public over a microphone was candy to Pride demons. He muted the sound, not caring for the drunken caterwauling at all. It was only when Angel Dust joined in the refrain that he sat up, rising from the bed. 

The comments and hearts were flashing up in real time on the screen. 

_OMG! Hashtag relationship goooooals!_

_Hell’s #1 couple #trufax_

_Purple and pink bringin’ down da house!_

_Rebound realness. What a glow up, Val baby!_

With a simple thought, the video disappeared from the digital world in a matter of seconds, along with all the adoring comments talking about what a hot couple Valentino and Angel Dust made. He hurled the phone across the room, yelling as it bounced off the wall and landed on the ground in perfect condition. Stupid robust technology. 

“Stupid, conceited, full of himself, whoring bastard!” He raged, kicking the phone from its prone position on the floor and sending it spinning underneath the bed. That was it. They were officially broken up. For real this time, no take backs. 

“Overlord?” A voice came over the intercom. “There’s a delivery at the front desk for you.” 

“What?” Vox broke off from his ranting, making his way into the main hub once more and bringing up an image of the front desk. 

“It’s a HellDash delivery, shall I send it down to you, Overlord?” 

Vox scoffed. “Ha. That philandering idiot thinks he can buy me back with fancy food? Fat chance! He must think I’m-“ 

Big Mac and fries, extra-large with a strawberry shake. 

“-so… stupid….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What? Does this link directly to where "Never text your ex" starts? Hmm ;) It can do! 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who stuck around for my strange ValVox fic. This story has led to me finding a wonderful community of staticmoth fans over on Twitter so give me a follow @graysongirl4 for vox simping abound! 
> 
> My next venture will be a Radio Dust fic inspired by the classic tale of Cyrano de Bergerac with a heavy helping of ValVox to keep things drama fuelled. I also got inspiration for a LuciferxValentino one shot that includes a sneaky origin tale for the moth we all love to hate. 
> 
> Stay tuned!


End file.
